The Boy Next Door
by Nacomah
Summary: Slash Harry/Pyro. Magneto receives a tip that a powerful young mutant lives on Privet Drive. Posing as a family, Magneto, Mystique, and Pyro become convinced that their neighbor, Harry Potter, is the mutant they're looking for.
1. Chapter 1

_The Boy Next Door_

Summary: After the Cure fades away, Magneto needs to re-build his Brotherhood. He receives a tip that a powerful young mutant lives on Privet Drive. Posing as a family, Magneto, Mystique, and Pyro search for the mutant, becoming convinced that the boy next door, the apparently troubled Harry Potter is the mutant they're looking for.

Pairing: Slash. Harry/Pyro

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or the X-Men. J.K. Rowling, Marvel, and others have that honor.

Spoilers: HP 1-6. AU for summer of HP7. X1-3.

Warnings: Slash. Strong Language. Adult Concepts. Sexual Content.

A.N. So after years of working on one story it's finished and I get to move on but I can't resist sticking with this pairing. This story will be much shorter. For those of you who have read _Mutant Son_, while much of the characterization is the same here, the characters will be somewhat different. And Pyro is not Voldemort's son and is ever so slightly older.

**Chapter 1: Welcome to the Neighborhood**

It was a very ordinary neighborhood. Neatly trimmed lawns, uniform hedges, even the houses resembled each other. It was the worst place possible for a child to grow up a mutant. If it wasn't for the fact that Callisto had, from her prison cell, informed a disguised Mystique of a very powerful mutant living on Privet Drive, Magneto wouldn't even consider being in the same presence as such mundane excuses for even Homo sapiens. Finding the mutant would be difficult, Magneto knew. For his own safety, the mutant would be wary, in hiding in his own neighborhood. Unfortunately even Callisto couldn't point them closer from such a far distance.

Mystique had thought it overkill to go on this recruitment mission but Magneto thought it best. The political climate in America was not optimal for Brotherhood recruitment. The current administration was preaching peace and launching Charles' traitorous X-Men onto a pedestal. But Magneto knew that wouldn't last. His army would be needed again. He just needed an army. He needed to rebuild. And Surrey, England was as good a place as any to start. Posing as the new family at Number Six Privet Drive.

Of course, there were other reasons for being here. Getting Pyro away from America for one. His protégé was growing distant. Pyro had lost his hero worship for him, quite unfortunate really as Magneto had found it useful in the past. If he had any hope of retaining Pyro as one of his lieutenants, he had to get him away from America and away from the X-Men. He needed to ensure Pyro's loyalty. Glancing around the upper middle class neighborhood, Magneto thought this an excellent place. Mutants were unwelcome here. Hated. Pyro needed to feel that hatred targeted against him. Magneto couldn't lose Pyro's anger.

"Are you just going to stand there?" Pyro grunted, grabbing another box from the car.

"I fear I am not as young as I once was," Magneto replied with a sigh. Pyro stared at him for a moment before turning to look at an approaching Mystique, her form as close to her true form as possible, her hair blonde and eyes a piercing blue.

"He's playing the age card again," Pyro informed Mystique as he brushed his brown hair out of his face. In hiding while Mystique and Magneto were cured, Pyro had returned his hair to the state it was in when they had first met him. He looked a bit like the rebellious teenager again, a look further added to by the ratty jeans, black t-shirt, and combat boots he insisted on wearing. Youth today.

Mystique sent Pyro a mischievous smile. "What? Can't handle a couple of boxes…John."

Pyro glared at the use of his human name. Magneto sometimes felt as if he was indeed dealing with the bickering siblings they would be posing as. Granted, slightly incestuous siblings who tended to flirt with each other as much as fight. It had taken Pyro a few months in the beginning but he had slowly gotten used to Mystique and stopped watching her so warily. Pyro opened his mouth to snap back a response, probably with his usual biting charm, but was interrupted.

"Oh, hello," a skinny middle-aged woman with blonde hair put down her gardening supplies and headed over to the driveway. "You must be our new neighbors. The Hortons, I believe. My name is Petunia Dursley."

Yes, the Dursley family. The husband sold drills and the wife stayed at home. They had a teenage son named Dudley who attended a boarding school called Smeltings. They also had a nephew of the same age named Harry Potter but neither Mystique nor Pyro had uncovered much information on him.

"Hello, my dear," Magneto offered her a smile. "Yes we are the Hortons. I am Erik." He then gestured to Mystique and Pyro. "And my grandchildren: Raven and John."

"Raven," Petunia gave her a false smile. "What a pretty name." She glanced between them. "And all three of you are moving in?"

"Yes, our grandfather is getting up there in years," Mystique responded, mimicking their neighbors' false smile. Her eyes remained hard though, unimpressed with the woman's attempts at subtle information gathering. "Someone needs to take care of him."

"How sweet," Petunia's smile seemed pasted on. Pyro studied her, face carefully blank. She turned to him. "And what a handsome boy you have here. He can't be much older than my Dudders."

Pyro's eyebrows rose, either at the compliment or the apparent nickname for her son. Magneto stepped in before Pyro could open his mouth. Pyro had made it very clear that he thought this mission stupid and only reluctantly took his orders. Magneto wasn't letting him rub the woman the wrong way right off the bat.

"I assume that," he paused for a moment, "Dudders is your son. Is he twenty, as well?"

"No, Dudley is seventeen," Petunia answered brightly. "I am sure he can introduce you to the other boys in the neighborhood," she continued towards Pyro.

"That won't be necessary," Pyro responded, turning away from her. "I'm gonna finish unpacking the car while you guys bullshit." Petunia looked affronted as Pyro carried a box off towards the house.

"I apologize for my brother's behavior," Mystique stated. "What I didn't say before is that he's another one I will be looking after. John tends to be a bit of trouble." She couldn't hide the amusement in her eyes.

"Yes, I know how that goes," Petunia responded. "Not from my Dudley of course but…well I believe I should get back to my gardening." Sending them one last false smile she walked back to her house and kneeled before the flowers.

Magneto and Mystique exchanged unimpressed looks. "Homo sapien," Mystique sneered dismissively before grabbing her own box. Her eyes flashed yellow for a moment. She headed towards Pyro who had apparently decided to take a break and stood smoking on the porch. Magneto watched as Petunia's eyes glanced warily towards Pyro. He sighed. Pyro was going to be difficult. Perhaps, however, he could use that to his advantage.

**Two Weeks Later**

Harry opened his eyes as he felt the car come to a stop. "That boy is outside again," Uncle Vernon said to Aunt Petunia.

"Leave it alone, Vernon," Aunt Petunia sighed. It took Harry a moment to realize that they weren't talking about him. Usually the word 'boy' was reserved specifically for him.

"I don't like the looks of him, Petunia," Uncle Vernon continued, glaring out the window. Harry followed his uncle's gaze. At first he didn't see anything but then he realized that a pair of jean-clad legs were sticking out from under the car in the neighbors' driveway.

"New neighbors?" Harry asked before he could stop himself. He winced as Uncle Vernon whirled around to look at him.

"And you will not interact with them. Do you understand?" he snapped. "We don't need the neighbors seeing you with that boy. And the girl and that old man are perfectly nice, normal people. We don't need you poisoning against us."

Harry rolled his eyes. "I don't think you need any help there." He swung the door open before his uncle could respond. Once out, he slammed it shut just to be difficult. It had only been two days since Professor Dumbledore's funeral and, needless to say, Harry didn't feel very tolerant of his relatives' antics at the moment. He didn't feel particularly tolerant of anything really.

Glaring, Uncle Vernon got out of the car and unlocked the back of the car so that Harry could receive his trunk and empty cage. Harry hauled it out.

"Oh, Mr. Dursley," a female voice called out from the new neighbors' house.

Uncle Vernon stepped on Harry's foot, causing him to almost drop his trunk. "No funny business. Remember that boy."

Harry turned to watch a beautiful blonde woman make her way towards them. "Hello Raven, dear," Aunt Petunia said as the woman came to a stop in front of them. "Can we help you with anything?"

"Oh, no thanks." Though the woman was smiling, Harry thought there was something off about her eyes. Something hard. Dangerous. Harry shook the feeling off. The Order wouldn't have allowed a Death Eater to move in next door. Nevertheless, his skin prickled as her eyes landed on him. "Just wanted to come say hello. Who is this?"

"This is my nephew," Uncle Vernon practically grunted out. Harry wrinkled his nose as he saw the way Uncle Vernon was appraising the woman. When Harry turned back to Raven, she seemed to be looking at him in amusement.

"Harry Potter," he offered, meeting her eyes. This time the slight smile she sent didn't seem quite so forced as with his aunt and uncle. "Now, I'm going to go drag my trunk to my room so they can tell you what a delinquent I am. It was nice meeting you."

Ignoring his aunt and uncle's outraged faces, Harry pushed past them. He looked over to the neighbors' driveway. His eyes landed on the owner of the jean-clad legs. The guy appeared a little older and slightly taller than him. Though his hair had clearly been gelled, it hung disheveled over his forehead as he smoked his cigarette. Harry could see why Uncle Vernon hadn't liked the looks of him. The guy glanced briefly over at Harry before his eyes returned to Raven.

Harry dragged his trunk and the cage inside and up the stairs. Once safely in his room, he shut the door behind him and dropped into bed. Another summer at Number Four. His last. He really wished Hedwig would arrive soon. Harry already felt lonely. Alone with his thoughts, dread entered into his body. His last summer at Privet Drive. Could it also be his last summer in general? Dumbledore was dead. There was no one left to protect him. Now it was just Harry, the Horcruxes, and Voldemort. The Order would do their best but they weren't Dumbledore. Harry had a war to fight and, if he was honest with himself, he doubted his chances no matter how determined he was to take his parents' murderer down. So his last summer. And he would end up spending it like he did any other summer at Privet Drive: alone and bored. What a life, Harry thought as he closed his eyes and dozed off. He hoped this time he wouldn't be seeing Dumbledore falling to his death.

**PAGE BREAK**

"There's no record of him at St. Brutus's," Mystique pointed out as she leaned against the kitchen counter, watching Magneto drink his tea and read the paper. Pyro entered the kitchen and headed for the coffee-maker. She looked at him. "It's a little late for you and coffee. You'll be bouncing off the walls tonight."

Pyro only glanced at her before dismissing her and preparing his coffee anyway. "I'm sure I can find some way to get rid of my excess energy," he said dryly.

"Another meaningless night of sex?" she asked as he grabbed his coffee and lounged back on a chair next to Magneto. Mystique sent Pyro a predatory smile. He raised his eyebrows at her, unimpressed. "Just drop by my bedroom, I'd be happy to help you out."

Pyro looked at her warily. "Last time we tried that you turned into Rogue in the middle of it. I still haven't gotten over those nightmares."

She laughed. "I thought you wanted that."

"I prefer you blue," he told her. Mystique looked at him curiously. He remained the only man to ever tell her that.

"Enough," Magneto folded up his paper. "Back to business. Are you sure there is no record of the boy at the school?"

"What boy and what school?" Pyro asked, running a hand along the lighter safely tucked away in his jeans. When he had first joined them, Pyro couldn't help but toy with the lighter constantly. Magneto quickly tired of his excess energy and trained him to sit still. He had only been partially successful. Mystique thought Pyro's energy had something to do with his mutation. And his youth. Magneto put too much effort into driving that youth from him. Mystique brought herself back on track. Pyro was a soldier. She couldn't let her attachment to him mess with the mission. There was no room for a child in the Brotherhood.

"Harry Potter, the neighbors' nephew," she informed him. "They say he attends St. Brutus' School, it's supposed to be a school for hopeless criminal cases." She cocked her head. "You know for boys like you."

"One, don't call me a boy," Pyro said pulling his lighter out. "Two, look who's talking. And three," he turned to Magneto, "can I have my wrist lighters back?"

Magneto looked at him, eyebrows raised. "John, we have spoken about this. If you had the self control to not constantly light them, you could be wearing them right now. And try to focus on one subject at a time. Discipline your wayward mind."

Pyro glared. "Don't call me John."

"We must stick with our human names even in private," Magneto scolded. "We cannot slip out there." Mystique held back a laugh as Pyro viciously flicked his lighter. While it was clear that Magneto hoped to use this mission to re-ensnare Pyro, acting as a father figure would not gain him any favor. But she wouldn't tell Magneto that. A part of her thought he'd deserve losing Pyro for what he did to her, abandoning her after she had taken a cure dart for him. And an even smaller part of her thought that Pyro deserved a better life than this. "And can we please return to the mission at hand?"

Pyro returned his attention to her. "So hopeless case, huh? He didn't seem too criminal to me."

Mystique shrugged. "Well he clearly has a lot of anger and a good deal of spirit."

Magneto watched her. "But you don't think he really is one of those hopeless cases."

She looked between the two men. "I think after two weeks we have our first lead. There's very little record of him, his relatives seem to despise him, and the neighborhood makes him out to be some sort of trouble. He's the first person that's stuck out in this horrendous neighborhood."

"He's definitely got the troubled kid thing going for him," Pyro agreed.

Magneto turned to him. "I wasn't aware that you've spoken to him."

"I haven't but I have eyes. It's called body language, old man," Pyro leaned back further in his chair.

Mystique snorted. "Who needs body language to tell that kid is troubled? His eyes are incredibly expressive."

Pyro sent her a smirk. "Staring into the kid's eyes, Stique? A little young for you, don't you think?"

"Oh, maybe," Mystique returned his smirk. "Why don't you have a go instead? Let me know how it is."

Pyro wrinkled his nose in apparent distaste. Mystique held back a smile at his act. She had seen him look after all. "He's a kid. You know I don't go anywhere near anyone younger than me."

Mystique rolled her eyes. "And you are so much older yourself."

Magneto shook his head, returning to his paper. "It amazes me that we ever get anything done with your two's inability to remain on topic." His eyes traveled over the top of the paper. "Pyro, you're close to his age. Get it out of him."

**PAGE BREAK**

John took a drag from his cigarette as he listened to the neighbors arguing. He couldn't make out the words but he could hear the raised voices from where he sat on the hood of the car he had been working on. This was the first fight he had heard raised voices in the two weeks that they'd been there. It was also the first night the nephew was home. Mystique was most likely on to something.

The front door suddenly swung open. The kid (Harry Potter, John remembered), slammed the door shut behind him. He ran a hand roughly through his hair. "Fucking lunatic," Harry said, not entirely under his breath, perching himself on the little fence splitting Number Four's front yard from Number Six's driveway. John took another puff, watching as the ember at the end of his cigarette flared briefly.

The kid turned very quickly around, handing going to his back pocket as he jumped off the fence. He paused, however, as his eyes landed on John. Interesting.

"Welcome home party getting out of hand?" John stated, flicking the ash from his cigarette.

"That's one way of putting it," the kid responded, jaw tight.

"I'm sure." John looked away. Across the street he saw a woman returning to the house after taking out her garbage. She practically ran back inside. So someone else besides him had been listening to the fight at Number Four.

Apparently Harry had followed his eyes. He snorted. John turned back to him. "Everyone here's incredibly nosy. They don't like anything that stands out but they can't help looking." Harry had a small smile on his face, slightly amused but more annoyed than anything. He looked back over at John.

John took a drag before taking a step forward, offering the kid a cigarette. Harry shook his absentmindedly. Not in disgust though. Mystique was right. The kid had very expressive eyes. Very green. Emerald almost. And sad, definitely sad.

John turned his eyes back to the door into which the woman had disappeared. "And let me guess everyone's always looking at you."

Harry let out a short laugh. John raised his eyebrows at the reaction. "You have no idea," Harry said, smile on his face.

"I have a little bit of one," John offered. "Standing out's not always a bad thing, you know?" He put out his cigarette. "See you around, kid."

"Don't call me 'kid'," Harry responded.

"Whatever, kid," John returned with a smirk as he entered the bright kitchen. Yes, Mystique was on the right track.

A.N. What do you think? It's so hard to start from scratch again, especially when you're making a new story/relationship with the same characters.


	2. Of Orders and Root Canal

_The Boy Next Door_

Summary: After the Cure fades away, Magneto needs to re-build his Brotherhood. He receives a tip that a powerful young mutant lives on Privet Drive. Posing as a family, Magneto, Mystique, and Pyro search for the mutant, becoming convinced that the boy next door, the apparently troubled Harry Potter is the mutant they're looking for.

Pairing: Slash. Harry/Pyro

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or the X-Men. J.K. Rowling, Marvel, and others have that honor.

Spoilers: HP 1-6. AU for summer of HP7. X1-3.

Warnings: Slash. Strong Language. Adult Concepts. Sexual Content.

A.N. Wow, thanks for all the reviews! That's more than I've ever gotten for _Mutant Son_ in a single chapter. Just as a note, since I think most readers here are readers of that one too, this story will be a lot shorter than _Mutant Son_ especially as it covers a shorter period of time.

**Chapter 2: Of Orders and Root Canals **

Harry viciously drove the trowel into the ground. Harry Potter, the boy-who-lived, the Chosen One, tending to the roses. If only the wizarding world could see him now. Instinctively, he turned as he heard the neighbor's door slam shut. His eyes landed on the guy he had spoken to the night before. He returned to the trowel as his new neighbor flipped the hood of the car open.

"Fuck," Harry muttered as he beheaded one of the flowers. He threw the trowel down in frustration. He couldn't do this. Not this summer. He couldn't return to Privet Drive and do the gardening like he wasn't a wanted man. Like people weren't dying.

"Hmmm…the manly sport of gardening not cutting it huh?"

Harry turned to see his neighbor leaning against the car, watching him in amusement. "Cutting it for what?" Harry asked.

"The whole anger thing you got going for you," the guy responded, pulling out his lighter. He didn't move for his cigarettes, only flicking the flame on and off.

"Not really any of your business," Harry replied, if not a little surly. "Seeing as I'm not even sure who you are, except that my uncle dislikes you."

"Men like you're uncle usually do. And it's John." He turned back to the car.

"Men like my uncle hate guys like you," Harry agreed, "and ogle women like your sister."

John grinned, pausing for a moment. His grin seemed almost vicious. "Oh please let him say something to her."

"As much as I hate the man," Harry said, holding back his own grin. "I don't want him dead. Your sister's kind of creepy."

"Creepy?" John asked, returning to his engine.

"Yeah, you know," Harry shrugged. "There's that look in her eye."

John glanced at him for a moment. "Observant."

Harry offered a grin but didn't comment. Part of him wondered why John was talking to him. People in this neighborhood always tried to pretend like he wasn't there. He was no one here. Certainly not someone that guys like John would ever bother talking to. Harry dismissed those thoughts. It was lonely at Privet Drive with no one but Hedwig to talk to. At least, John talked back. "So what are you doing here on Privet Drive? There's nothing but men like my uncle here."

"My grandfather moved us here," John offered, a look passing over his face. "Trust me, I don't want to be here."

"It's not like you don't have a choice," Harry said. "You have to be at least of age."

John looked over at him for a moment before pulling out a tool and adjusting something in the engine. "Sometimes your choices leave you with very little choice in the end."

Harry couldn't help it. He laughed. John turned to him, eyebrows raised in partial challenge. That only made Harry laugh a little harder. "Sorry that was really philosophical. And you…you're covered in grease." Or more specifically, he exuded 'bad boy' not philosophical.

"I'm a very philosophical person. Despite the grease," John offered, wiping a hand on his jeans which really didn't help much. He said it very plainly but his face quickly broke into a grin. It wasn't like his earlier grin, no longer vicious, but it didn't last long. Harry wondered how much it would take to get a smile out of someone like him. "So, Harry, what are _you_ doing on Privet Drive?"

Harry found his own face growing serious. He shrugged. "I was raised here." John waited for more. "Orphan," he offered. He studied John. "You?"

"I wish." Harry stared waiting for more but he didn't get anything.

"Okay," Harry said almost under his breath. He never had anyone respond to his lack of parents that way. As John's focus completely returned to his car, Harry couldn't help but watch him a moment longer. But his timing was horrible. Just as he was about to return to the gardening, his aunt walked out.

"Why aren't you working?" Aunt Petunia almost hissed, as if attempting to prevent her voice from traveling.

"I'm doing it now," Harry sighed, grabbing his trowel.

Aunt Petunia's eyes traveled briefly over to John. "And remember what Vernon told you."

"You mean there was something he said worth listening to?" Harry glared at the roses. Aunt Petunia pursed her lips for a moment before turning on her heel and back into the house.

"What a bitch," John offered from his car.

Harry snorted.

**PAGE BREAK**

Mystique let the curtains fall closed. "Pyr—I mean John-has the kid talking." She eyed Magneto who was yet again reading the paper. "Congratulations he's still taking your orders."

Magneto offered her a small smile, the one he and she used to share. Now it only seemed patronizing. "I assure you, Raven, I do not know what you mean."

Mystique allowed her eyes to flash yellow, taking a seat across from him. She met his eyes. "Don't you?" She mimicked his smile. "I mean you once had him at your beck and call. You were a god to him. Truly." She offered a dramatic sigh. "But then Alcatraz happened and things began changing and his old friends got the credit." Her most predatory smile appeared on her face. "And you need to re-ensure his loyalty."

Magneto's smile was a little less patronizing this time. "All these years," he finally placed down his newspaper. "And you still know me so well." He allowed his eyes to travel to the kitchen window from which Mystique had been watching Pyro interact with the neighbor boy. "But I do not worry about Pyro's loyalties. He will remain with us. Of that I am sure."

Mystique shrugged. "Maybe." She grinned. "You might have to take him to a few obedience lessons first."

"He's a boy, not a dog," Magneto re-opened his paper.

Mystique stood. "He's neither. Treating him as such won't do you any good. Pyro despises father-figures. Do you remember how easily he betrayed Xavier?"

"That is where you are wrong, my dear." He considered his words. "Perhaps wrong is not the best word. As it is, Pyro may despise father-figures, but he continuously seeks one. Do _you_ remember his once desperate need for my approval?"

Mystique made a face. "Yes, it was quite sickening." She returned to her post at the window. Petunia Dursely had come out and seemed to be scolding her nephew. "Honestly, I prefer this Pyro. I believe it's the real one."

"Perhaps," Magneto responded, watching her. "What do you see?"

"Petunia Dursley just stormed back inside," Mystique told her. Her eyes landed on Pyro who had turned his head to look at the neighbor boy again. For someone who had made a lot of noise about the kid's age, Pyro sure was looking a lot. "Her nephew must have said something to her again."

Magneto nodded and they sat in silence for a few moments. "Raven," Magneto's voice cut into the short silence. She turned to look at him. "Perhaps we should see what else he says that his family does not want anyone else to hear."

Mystique looked at him. "Dinner party?" she asked.

"Yes, that sounds wonderful." They grinned at each other and it almost felt like old times again.

**PAGE BREAK**

"I really hate this mission," John repeated. He had no idea how many times he had repeated the statement but the more he said it the truer it was. He didn't want to be stuck in British suburbia, looking for a mutant. He was Pyro. He burnt things. Even did infiltration missions. He didn't pose as a nice normal family.

"It's nice to see your dedication to it though," Mystique replied, obviously annoyed. "Every day you sound more like an irritating teenager."

"I'm not a teenager," John snapped, placing a dish on the table a little roughly.

Mystique's hard eyes met his. "Yes, but you're doing a superb acting job." Then she smiled, shaking her head. "And John? You're only about three months past your teen years. Stop trying so hard."

John sighed. "Yeah well the more Mags over there treats me like one, the more I feel the need to try."

Mystique glanced over at the kitchen where Magneto was cooking. "I'd imagine that's very irritating." She placed the last of the dishes down. "It's irritating to watch. Just don't make my days more irritating, okay?"

John looked up at her, amused expression on his face. "Is that a threat? You know you're not very scary after someone gets to know you."

Mystique made a face. "That's because you're abnormal." A mischievous expression appeared on her face. "You know I can always shift into your form and seduce the boy next door." John only stared at her, unimpressed. She laughed. "Wonderful poker face. No worries. I wouldn't do that. You're right. He's too young for me. Plus, you have dibs."

"I don't want him, Stique," John replied with a glare. He didn't get why she was so insistent that he did. He wasn't sure exactly how old Harry was but he was at least several years younger than him. John wouldn't be that man. But the way Mystique was looking at him suggested she was unconvinced so he decided to change the topic. "Besides, even if he was of the guy screwing inclination, I don't think he'd go near you. Even as me." John smirked. "Your eyes give you away. He knows something's off about you."

"Off?" she asked with a fake pout.

"Well he said creepy but I know you better," John replied.

The door bell rang. "John, get the door," Magneto called from the kitchen.

John sighed, looking over at Mystique. "So this is what families do every day?" he asked her before heading into the living room to get the door. He definitely hadn't missed anything growing up. Family obviously wasn't his thing.

He pulled the door open to reveal his irritating neighbors. Well, Harry wasn't annoying but he didn't look too happy to be there either. He shook Vernon's hand off his shoulder. Mystique hadn't given them a chance to leave Harry out, insisting that they bring him along. John was surprised they had even come but Mystique had explained things. "People like them can't resist seeing the inside of their neighbors' homes. It's like a competition," she had told him. Apparently keeping up with the Jones' was a real thing.

John stepped aside to let them in. "Come on in," he said monotonously. "Dining room is straight through."

Vernon and Petunia gazed around as they slowly walked through the living room, their son Dudley at their feet looking bored. Harry waited for him to close the door, glancing at him. "Forced into this, huh?" he asked.

"What gives you that idea?" John shut the door. "I love spending my Friday nights with lovely people like your family."

Harry nodded his head knowingly. "Of course…over a root canal."

John headed for the dining room. "Who gets root canals on a Friday night? I meant getting laid."

Harry snorted. "Root canal makes more sense here."

"Ah, Harry, good to see you," Mystique smiled at them as they entered. She sent John a look. Obviously she wasn't giving up on her little theory. Vernon, meanwhile, was sending Harry a glare. Harry sighed and John smirked, thinking about the looks the man would send Harry if John did have a go with him. "You can take the seat across from John."

John glared at her as Magneto joined them. "I am so happy that you can join us," Magneto offered a smile. To John it looked creepy but Petunia and Vernon were happy to return his smile. "Please take your seats; the food will be out any minute." Magneto turned to him. "John if you will help…"

He followed Magneto back into the kitchen. "Help me carry these in," Magneto ordered. John paused and stared at the dishes. "What is it?" Magneto sighed as John made no move.

"You cook," John said.

Magneto practically rolled his eyes. "What do you think I've been doing in here?"

"Not cooking all this," John replied staring at the pork roast, potatoes, and some small dishes he wasn't even sure of. "Fuck."

"Just bring the food in," Magneto told him, brushing past him. John heard him engage Petunia in conversation. He grabbed the pork roast and slowly brought it in. It was a rather surreal experience bringing food out to a table full of guests. It was too normal. He hated it.

Finally he took his seat. "So John, are you at university?" Petunia asked pleasantly.

"No," he replied, leaning back in his chair.

"Oh, I see," she glanced down the table a moment before turning back to him. "Are you working, then?"

"No."

"John," Mystique mock scolded him. She turned to Petunia. "He does odd jobs for money. You know, cars and such."

"I see," Petunia replied. Her husband meanwhile eyed him dirtily. John would bet that Vernon was evaluating his value as a man or something ridiculous. He didn't appreciate it. John more than earned his keep here.

"How about your boys?" Mystique asked as she began passing the food around.

"Dudley has an internship with my company this summer," Vernon replied proudly. Yeah, nepotism was hard work on his son's part.

"And Harry?" Magneto asked.

"Unemployed," Vernon replied gruffly, eying his nephew as if begging him to argue. Harry met his gaze, challenging him it seemed to say something more. John smirked as he ate a bit of potato.

"You seem to keep him busy though," Mystique inserted, glancing over at John. "I wish I could get my brother to do something more than tinker with that car."

Conversation continued like that through the meal. John was impressed with Mystique's ability to match the Dursleys in fakeness. Dudley only seemed to speak when spoken to but even he had that same neighborly façade. The Dursleys, meanwhile, didn't try to include John into their conversation again so he happily sat back and ate his food, eyes traveling here and there to Harry who seemed to do his best to go unnoticed, eating his food slowly. Was he the mutant they were looking for? John watched as Harry's jaw tightened in response to something his uncle had said. The intense look matured his face. If only he had a few more years on him…At that thought, John zoned back on to the conversation.

"Yes, I don't know how the American government could have become so lax on this issue," Vernon commented. "Especially after the whole affair on Alcatraz." Ah, so someone had managed to steer the conversation to mutants.

"Yes, Alcatraz changed many things. For the worse I fear," Magneto responded lightly but his eyes had that dangerous focus to them. As he looked at Vernon, John knew Magneto was truly seeing an insect.

"And I thought the Americans were on the right track. Weaponizing the Cure," Vernon continued. "I was sure that they were going to pass that Registration Act, too. We shouldn't have those freaks," he sneered, "running around free like that, tainting our society."

John ran his hand along the outline of his lighter in his pocket. Mystique's eyes narrowed even as she maintained a friendly look on her face.

"Tainting?" Harry asked, green eyes darker in anger. "Got to register people to live now, huh?"

"Mutants are dangerous, my boy," Magneto inserted, eyes evaluating him. "They're not like you and I and your nice family." John held back a smirk.

"Good for them," Harry responded.

"Boy—" Vernon practically growled.

"Don't worry, I'm shutting up," Harry snapped, standing. "Thank you for the meal." And with that Harry left. Though John expected to hear the door slam behind him, it didn't.

"I am so sorry about that," Petunia said, clearly horrified. "I told you over the phone that I didn't think it would be a good idea to bring him."

"No worries, my dear," Magneto offered, his eyes pleased. "Your nephew is simply passionate about what he believes in, I am sure." He turned to John. "Please, check on him."

"Oh that isn't necessary," Petunia replied quickly.

"No, I insist," Magneto smiled at her as John got up and headed out of the house. He spotted Harry sitting on the front stoop of Number Four.

"Quite a show," John said as he pulled out his pack of cigarettes. Harry watched as he leaned against the railing. "The ending needed a bit of work though. A door slam or something."

"I didn't mean to lose control like that," Harry said, running a hand through his hair slowly.

"I don't know," John put the cigarette to his lips, for some strange reason pleased as Harry watched him. "You seemed in control to me," he got out through the cigarette. If Harry was a mutant then he did show some good control. Anger but no flare of his mutation.

Harry snorted. "Yeah, I'm sure my aunt and uncle would agree."

"There going to be an argument?" John blew out some smoke.

"Maybe." Harry shook his head. "I really should know better. People have been telling me for years to control my emotions."

"What fun is that?" John asked, resisting the urge to pull a flame from the end of the cigarette. "Sounds cold. I like passion." He breathed out the smoke. "So are you mutants a sore topic for you or something?"

Harry shrugged. "Not really. Maybe. I don't know." He looked at his feet. "Not really a topic I think too much about." John couldn't quite tell if he was lying but the fact that he had looked away may have betrayed something. Harry glanced back at the house. "Maybe you should go back inside with your family."

"Nah," John replied as he took a seat next to him. "I like it better here."

Harry smiled. "I think you're just trying to escape host duties."

John shrugged. "That too I guess. You're right, by the way. Your uncle does check my sister out. Doesn't even try to hide it. Does he really thing he stands a chance?" He made a face. "Fuck, that would be like the Blob: the porno."

Harry half-choked, half-laughed.

**PAGE BREAK**

It was the worst fight since what had happened with Aunt Marge. Uncle Vernon had been so angry that he grabbed Harry and tried to shove him into the cupboard under the stairs. But Harry wasn't so little any more. He could fight back and he did. Harry managed to wrestle himself away from his uncle and out of the house with only a sore wrist.

Harry wanted to walk, to go somewhere, even the park would do, but as he got to the end of the walkway to Number Four, he paused, remembering an evening trip to the park two years ago. The dementors had found him there and sure he had handled it but he had also almost been expelled. Were there Death Eaters nearby?

Then a feeling came over Harry. He had always been safe from Death Eaters in Surrey, if the worst they could send at him were dementors then he had it handled. He was confident in his patronus and anything worse, he could apparate away. Yeah, he wasn't licensed or even of age but what would the Ministry do? Expel him? Even if they wanted to snap his wand, they'd never catch him. Harry could take care of himself. He didn't need anyone's protection anymore. So he took a step out onto the sidewalk and headed to the park, wand concealed under his sleeve.

Harry sat on the swing and turned his wand over in his hand. He had no idea how he would get back into the house but he'd figure that out later. He really shouldn't have started with his family like that but he couldn't help it. He couldn't just sit back and take it anymore. The anger came too easily now.

Harry didn't know how long he had been sitting there when a car pulled up at the curb. For a moment, he grasped his wand tighter until he recognized the car, then the person rolling down the window.

"Hey, John," Harry offered as John finished rolling down the window. "Working on the whole stalking thing?"

"Not my fault that you're always around," John responded, flicking his lighter, eyes focused clearly on the flame. Harry wondered if he was a pyromaniac. There was something about the way he looked at the fire. "What are you doing out here so late anyway?"

Harry shrugged. "I can ask you the same thing." John gazed at him for a moment before getting out of the car and heading over to him. He looked down at Harry then at the swing next to him. John sat, straddling the swing.

"Well, I'm coming back from making something of my Friday night," John said.

"Root canal?" Harry asked with a smirk.

"What do you think?" John replied returning the smirk before moving to light his cigarette.

Harry glanced down at his watch. Two a.m. "You have a date?"

John laughed though Harry couldn't figure what was so funny about the question. "Kid, I don't date."

"Stop calling me kid," Harry rolled his eyes. "And it was a good question. Am I supposed to assume you just go out and find random people to…" Harry trailed off, considering what word to use.

"Fuck?" John offered, returning his attention to his lighter. Harry rolled his eyes again. "Anyway, it's my turn. What are you doing out here?"

"Another argument," Harry shrugged. "Didn't really want to stick around."

John studied him, lighting his cigarette and letting the flame stay lit. "Just an argument? Then why are you favoring your left arm?"

Harry stared. "How…"

"I'm observant," John pulled the cigarette away from his lips. "And the fact that your uncle roughs you around isn't surprising."

"He doesn't rough me around," Harry denied. "One incident."

John didn't look convinced. As he looked at him, Harry realized his eyes were an interesting color. A dark blue-grey color. "You know you don't have to stick around. Just take off. You can take care of yourself. You're old enough."

Harry shook his head with a small smile. "So now I'm not a kid? Anyway, tt's only a few more months. Then I'm of age and I can leave."

"Why wait?" John's look was intense. Why?

"I…" Harry trailed off, considering his words. "Need to be here. It's…I can't explain. But I promised someone I'd stay here until then. I can't break that promise."

"No one owes anyone anything," John told him. "You do what's best for you and don't stick around for anyone."

Harry looked at him. There was something to the tone of his voice. "I owe this man everything," Harry finally said. "And he's dead." Harry looked to his feet. "How do you break a promise to a dead man?"

"Like you break a promise to anyone else," John responded, putting out his lighter. He stood, looking down at Harry. "Don't be an idiot. You stay and whatever happens to you is on you." Backing away, he got into his car. Cheery guy, Harry decided.

A.N. I hope everyone is enjoying this right now. It may seem a bit slow or at least it seems slow to me but I guess that's because I'm back to a beginning. I hope that's why.


	3. The Next Few Weeks

_The Boy Next Door_

Summary: After the Cure fades away, Magneto needs to re-build his Brotherhood. He receives a tip that a powerful young mutant lives on Privet Drive. Posing as a family, Magneto, Mystique, and Pyro search for the mutant, becoming convinced that the boy next door, the apparently troubled Harry Potter is the mutant they're looking for.

Pairing: Slash. Harry/Pyro

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or the X-Men. J.K. Rowling, Marvel, and others have that honor.

Spoilers: HP 1-6. AU for summer of HP7. X1-3.

Warnings: Slash. Strong Language. Adult Concepts. Sexual Content.

A.N. Thank you for reading so far! Sorry for the long wait but classes have started again and I have this one professor who apparently thinks reading 200+ pages a week isn't much. And I'm talking social science not novel so no more quick updates for me.

You'll notice a lot of confrontation coming between Uncle Vernon and Harry that may seem inconsistent with the books but you'll find out why eventually.

Also, I'm kind of disappointed with how this is coming out so far. I hope it's just because I struggle with beginnings. I remember struggling with the beginning of Mutant Son, too. So this chapter is basically a series of scenes. Oh, well.

**Chapter 3: The Next Few Weeks**

John slowly drank his coffee. He felt Mystique's eyes on him but he ignored her as he waited for Magneto to join them for their review of the dinner party.

"So guy or girl last night?" Mystique asked with a grin.

"None of your business," John responded, leaning back in his chair.

"But we always share our conquests," Mystique said, taking the seat across from him. "Don't be a spoil sport."

John looked at her, eyebrows raised. "Since when do you use words like 'spoil sport'?"

Mystique almost sulked. "Since this town happened to me. Honestly, it's disturbingly bland. It needs a little controversy."

"Do not get any ideas, Raven," Magneto told her as he entered. "There will be no shifting into our neighbors' forms." He paused. "Well, for now."

"I'm sure you can arrange something looking like that," John pointed out, gesturing at her current form. "Dursley's been eying you. I bet walking in on that will start something with the wife."

"It's an idea," Mystique pretended to think about it. "You know, if I ever get that desperately bored."

"There will be none of that either," Magneto inserted, eying the two. His eyes settled on Mystique. "I need you getting into that woman's good graces. See if you can get her to slip something about her nephew." Magneto came to the table with his own coffee. He took a sip. "I must say. I think we are on the right track. Mutants seem to be a sore topic for Harry Potter. And there is no doubt they despise the boy."

"He doesn't have to be a mutant for that to happen," John commented. "Plenty of families don't need the mutation card to be fucked up."

"Is that what you really think is the case here?" Magneto asked curiously.

John shrugged. "Could be. He hasn't showed any sign of mutation." Which was true. Everything seemed to be pointing to him except for the actual mutation. "Then again, he might just have good control."

"Well, you've spoken to him the most," Mystique pointed out. "What do you think? Plain and simple."

John considered it. "There's something more going on here than a kid that doesn't get along with his family. He's not spilling anything though."

Magneto leaned back in his chair, seemingly thinking things over. "A mutant living here would be very secretive," he said.

Mystique nodded. "He wouldn't just come out and say something to someone he's spoken to only a few times." She barely held back a grin as she looked at John. "You, my brother, are just going to have to bond with him."

"For the last time," John started, rolling his eyes, "I'm not going to hit the sack with him."

Mystique faked a surprised look. "I said nothing about sex. There are many ways of bonding with someone."

John looked between her and Magneto, who by the look on his face seemed to be in agreement. "You're barking up the wrong tree. What do I know about fucking bonding?"

"Find some shared ground," Magneto suggested. "Clearly he hates his family. You are quite talented at hatred yourself." Magneto stood, finishing of his coffee. "Combined with your skill at manipulation, I am sure you will come up with something."

John stared after him as he left the room before turning to Mystique. "Can you be talented at hatred?" he asked, resisting the urge to shake his head. His boss was nuts. Maybe his age was getting to him. John was long past thinking Magneto perfect. This whole mission just added to the disillusionment. Mystique opened her mouth but John interrupted her. "And don't even bring up sex. It's getting old."

Mystique stood. "You of all people, Pyro, know the value of seduction. You cannot deny your attraction to him. This way you follow orders and get to have your own fun."

John glared. "Just leave it, Stique."

Mystique looked at him one last time before leaving. John glanced down at his coffee which was growing cold. Not quite cold enough. He could use some iced coffee. He felt like he was on fire. When was the last time he went this long without setting something significant on fire? He really hated this mission.

Especially as he realized that Mystique was right. John did find himself attracted to the boy next door. He couldn't even pin-point why exactly. Sure the guy was good looking. Messy jet black hair, emerald green eyes, an angular face, and lean body. But usually when John placed someone in the no touching zone that was it. Except with…no John wasn't thinking about that part of his life. It was over.

There was something about this one though. Then again, as John thought about it, the lack of choices could be doing it. Besides some hot blonde girl on break from university down the street, there wasn't much to look at around here. That was it. John was sure of it. That and he needed a cigarette.

John made his way out, lighting his cigarette as soon as he stepped outside. Voices from right outside Number Four drew his attention. Dudley Dursley and a few guys his age stood out in front of the house.

"I'm bored," said one that looked rather liked a rat. He peered over Dudley's shoulder. "Hey D, is your cousin in?"

"No, he's out getting groceries with my mum." Dudley paused. "What do you want with him anyway, Piers?"

"Just remembering old times," Piers replied with a grin. It reminded John of some of the wannabe thugs he used to meet in New York. The kids who used to skip school and hang out on the street corners. It seemed even more pathetic now than then. And then it had seemed pretty pathetic. "Boy did he used to run. Think he's still a runner?"

"No," Dudley replied. "Leave him alone, Piers. He didn't do anything."

Piers laughed and the others smiled. "He doesn't have to have done something for it to be fun." Piers seemed to be staring Dudley down. "Grown some affection for your freak cousin, Big D?"

"No," Dudley denied. "But I know better than to go after him. He's in that school for a reason."

"Yeah, right," one of the others grinned. "The guy's tiny." John wouldn't call Harry tiny, he was around John's size after all, but compared to these bulky guys (with the exception of Piers) maybe he was.

Dudley shrugged. "Suit yourself, but if you mess with him you can count me out." Dudley checked his watch. "Come on guys, we're going to be late." With that, they made their way down the block.

There was that word again: freak. But still, no mention of mutant. They were on the right track, right?

**PAGE BREAK**

Harry ignored the twinges of pain going through his wrist as he helped his aunt bring in the groceries. Aunt Petunia hadn't brought him to fetch groceries for years, not since he was at least twelve. When she had dragged him with her, he had momentarily been worried about the wards until he remembered that it was her blood that kept him protected. Then he had still thought about arguing, but the fact of the matter was, he was out of the house. She may not have spoken a word to him the whole time (just handing a list over to him), but it was something different.

He placed the groceries on the counter and, side by side, Aunt Petunia and he took them out and put them away. The last time he had done this, he couldn't reach the top shelves and had to leave those for his aunt. Now he was taller than Aunt Petunia. It hit him again that this was his last summer here. This was it.

"You can go," Aunt Petunia said as they hit the last bag. Harry only nodded before leaving. She was acting strange. Had been since she had yelled at him the night before, right before Uncle Vernon had started his yelling.

Harry headed up to his room and perched himself at the end of his bed so he could look out the window. Glancing down, he saw John's car in the driveway.

There was a knock on the door. Harry was surprised to open the door and find his cousin standing there awkwardly.

"Er," Harry glanced curiously at him. "Did you want something?"

"Piers was talking about messing with you," Dudley told him a little hesitantly. Why was he telling him this? Harry waited for him to continue but didn't get anything. Dudley just continued to stand there.

"And?" Harry finally egged.

"Just wanted to warn you," Dudley shrugged. "I told them to leave you alone but I don't know if they'll listen to me."

"Uh…thanks…I guess." Harry and Dudley stared at each other for a few moments before Dudley shrugged one last time and made his way towards his room. Weird. Sighing, Harry laid down on his bed. He found himself glancing towards his window on and off. This was ridiculous. He felt antsy, restless. Even worse, he felt like he was in a strange limbo. Just months before he would be off on the Horcrux hunt. Months before he threw himself back into the wizarding world. Months of barely existing left.

Sighing again Harry headed out of his room and out the house. He needed to do something even if it was just taking a walk. And that was what he intended to do until he spotted something from the corner of his eye. Pausing, he glanced inside John's car. Yes, there was John. Walk or talk to his interesting neighbor? The decision was easy.

Harry headed for the car and leaned against the open rear window, watching as John laid out in the back seat reading. John didn't look up even as Harry stood there. "Can't you do that inside?" Harry finally asked.

John flipped a page. "Don't like it in there," he replied. "Not my style."

"Okay…" Harry tilted his head. "You also have a backyard."

"Your aunt is helping my sister plan a garden or some shit like that back there," John replied, reaching for a drink. He took a swig of what appeared to be beer. Harry glanced towards the yard. "Don't worry. They can't see us from here."

"I don't care about that," Harry replied. He really didn't either. The previous summers he had gotten by through being invisible, but Harry wasn't invisible anymore. He wouldn't be. Then again, he really didn't need another confrontation with his uncle right not either. Harry eyed John. "Still…why your car?"

"It's mine," John replied, flipping another page. Huh, so John didn't feel like he belonged in his house either. "And I can't see the neighbors watching me from here. You know…besides you." He said all this without ever looking up from his book.

"Oh, okay," Harry said, running out of things to say. John wasn't exactly helping, clearly invested in his reading.

Harry had just decided to take that walk when John spoke up. "If you wanna come in, the front seat's clear."

Harry didn't really think about it. He opened the door and climbed in. Now what? So they sat there: Harry in the passenger seat and John in the backseat, leaning on the door on the driver's side. "What are you reading?" Harry asked, unable to see a title.

"_The Brothers Karamazov_," John answered.

"Oh," Harry commented.

"Never even heard of it, huh?" John asked, looking at Harry over the top of the book.

Harry shook his head. "Honestly, I don't read much." He paused as John went back to his book. "Er…you don't really seem like a reader."

John smirked. "I get that a lot." He put his book down.

"I'll shut up if you want to read," Harry offered as John looked at him. Maybe Harry had been bothering him.

"I wouldn't have invited you in if I thought you'd sit there and quietly play with your hands," John seemed amused. His eyes traveled to Harry's hands. "How's the arm?"

"Fine," Harry moved it pointedly as John watched.

"It hurts," John commented. Harry knew he hadn't even flinched so he went to deny it but John interrupted him. "You're good at hiding it. Experience?"

Harry eyed him suspiciously. "Are you asking me if my uncle beats me? Because I already told you he doesn't."

John shrugged. "I didn't say anything about beatings. Guilty conscience?"

Harry glared. "No."

John studied him, seemingly thinking something over. Something flashed in his blue-grey eyes when he came to a decision. "I was six the first time my dad broke my arm," he told Harry.

Harry stared, immediately feeling bad but not sure what to do with the information. "Uh…the first?" he finally got out.

"Yeah, the first," John said slowly. He swung his legs back around so that he was sitting up in the back seat, never breaking eye contact. "So I know what it's like."

Harry maintained eye contact. "But I don't." John didn't look completely convinced. "Listen," Harry sighed, feeling as if it was only fair that he shared something after John had. "My aunt and uncle don't like me and I'm not saying they treat me well. But," Harry slowed his words down, "they don't beat me."

"Okay," John responded, grabbing his book again. He opened the book but didn't begin reading. Sighing, he put it down again. "Let me see your wrist," John ordered, reaching out.

Harry watched him curiously before slowly offering his arm. John's hands were incredibly warm and he was gentle as he checked it over. With one hand on Harry's forearm and the other on his hand, John slowly twisted it. Harry felt the twinge of pain again. "Did that hurt?" John asked, eyes meeting Harry's again. Harry stared. He really did have nice eyes.

"A little," Harry responded, looking away once he realized he had been staring. John gestured for Harry's other arm. He held it out and John placed Harry's arms side by side.

"It's a little swollen," John told him. "Not much." John let go of his arms and Harry felt the immediate loss of heat.

"So what's the diagnosis?" Harry asked wryly.

"Probably a small sprain. Should be fine. Just don't over use it." This time John really returned to his book. Harry thought about thanking him but figured John didn't care about thanks so they sat there together in silence.

**PAGE BREAK**

A few days later, John knocked roughly on the back door, tucking a couple of magazines under his arm. It took a few moments but the door soon was slowly opened, revealing a tired looking Harry. "Hey," Harry said, looking at him curiously.

John held up the magazines. "These are for your aunt."

"Gardening magazines?" Harry asked, looking first at the magazines then amusedly at John.

"My sister borrowed them," John explained. It felt odd to say that. John had never had a sister. It had always been just him and his dad. "She's making me return them."

"Aunt Petunia's not here," Harry said.

"I know," John responded, smirking at the confused look on Harry's face. "I rather see you than see her."

"Right," Harry responded, looking briefly behind him. "You want to come in? They won't be back for a while."

"How nice of you to offer," John said with a grin on his face. Harry shook his head, small smile on his face, as he stepped aside to let him in. John stepped inside the kitchen and looked around. It was incredibly clean. Not a thing out of place, not a fleck of dust to be seen. "Your aunt OCD?" John asked, following Harry to the kitchen table. He took a seat and watched as Harry stood a little awkwardly before sitting.

"Probably," Harry responded. "I think I end up cleaning counters at least twice a week."

"How domestic of you," John commented. "You cook too?" he asked sarcastically

Harry nodded. "Actually, yeah." He grinned. "I make a mean bacon and eggs."

"Scrambled or over-easy?"

Harry sent him a mock incredulous look. "Scrambled obviously."

John snorted and Harry smiled. It really lit up his face and John found himself studying him. Perhaps bordering on checking him out if John was completely honest with himself which he didn't intend to be. John tore his eyes away, glancing around the kitchen again.

"S how long have you been here?" John asked, perhaps a little suddenly because Harry looked surprised. Then confused.

"What do you mean? Like when was the last time I left?"

John shook his head. "Lived here, I mean."

"Since I was a baby," Harry responded. John watched him, waiting for him to continue. Harry returned his look for a moment before making the decision to continue. "Since my parents died. I was fifteen months." John only nodded and Harry gazed at him curiously. "You're the first one not to automatically say that you're sorry."

John pulled out his lighter and began to play with it. "How would me being sorry do anything?" He shrugged. "Besides, parents don't necessarily make you better off."

Harry looked down. "Mine would've. They were good people." Harry half-heartedly gestured back at the kitchen. "At least according to everyone but my aunt and uncle." For some strange reason Harry smiled. "Or one of my teachers."

There was a definite sadness to Harry as he spoke about his parents. It didn't make John feel bad for him but it made him curious. "How'd they die?"

"They were mur—" Harry suddenly stopped. "In a car crash." John's eyebrows rose. If it wasn't for the fact that Harry almost said something else, his tone of voice would've been convincing. So Harry's parents were murdered but he was told to say car crash. By who? And why?

John didn't have long to think about it because Harry apparently had his own questions. "You mentioned your dad the other day," Harry said. "With the…well the arm thing. How about your mother?"

John shrugged. He didn't want to talk about his life. That wasn't part of the mission. But he needed to get Harry to talk, to trust him. They needed to bond of all things. So he compromised. "I don't remember her."

"Oh," Harry seemed unsure what to say. He ran his hand through his hair, making his messy head of hair that much more disheveled. "Did she die?" Harry finally asked tentatively. From the way Harry was looking at him, John thought that maybe he hoped the answer was yes. It would certainly be an in. So, did he lie?

"Yeah," John replied. Of course he lied. He was Pyro. He got what he wanted no matter the cost. And he wanted out of Privet Drive and that meant finding and recruiting a mutant. So he lied and didn't feel a thing about it.

**PAGE BREAK**

"What are you looking at?" Mystique asked Petunia who seemed to be gazing over the fence instead of gardening.

Petunia swung back towards Mystique guiltily. "Oh, nothing," she said. "Just my nephew."

Raising an eyebrow, Mystique got up and stood next to Petunia so that she could see what the woman had been looking at. Indeed, she had been looking at her nephew. And Pyro. Mystique watched the two boys for a moment. Pyro apparently interrupted Harry's lawn mowing. He had a smirk on his face as Harry shook his head with a small smile.

"My brother keeping him from his work?" Mystique asked, turning back to Petunia.

"Oh, no, he'll get it done," Petunia assured. Nonetheless, she glanced nervously at the two boys again.

"You really don't like the two of them talking, do you?" Mystique asked, eying the woman in amusement as they kneeled down to plant a few more flowers.

"Well, Vernon…" Petunia trailed off. She pursed her lips for a moment. "We just don't think it's a good idea for the two of them to be friends."

"I see," Mystique dug a small hole. "And is it my brother's influence your worried about or your nephew's?"

"It's just not a good idea for my nephew to be around others too much." She must've realized what she had said sounded wrong because a strange looked passed over her face. "I mean the boy…he has bad genes."

Now what could she mean by that? Definitely something to pass on to Magneto. Taking one last look at Pyro and his new object of attention, Mystique wondered whether Petunia knew just how much time the two had been spending together over the last few weeks.

**PAGE BREAK**

Harry slowly made his way home from the most random walk he had ever taken. Initially, he had planned to go to the park but he had forgotten what time of day it was. When he got there, it was filled with kids. Parents already eyed him wearily here; sitting in the park with their children really wouldn't help matters. So he weaved through the streets for about an hour until getting bored enough to risk going back to Privet Drive and getting bored there instead. Admittedly, at least on Privet Drive there was a chance he'd run into John. Harry chalked his interest up to John being the cool guy and a welcome change from the Privet Drive boredom. A change that didn't involve an attack by dementors.

As Harry reached Privet Drive, he did spot John who was talking to the Connor girl from down the street. Harry paused, just out of hearing range as she flipped her long blonde hair over her shoulder, sending John a brilliant smile. John didn't return the smile but he didn't move back as she stepped closer to him and said something closer to his ear. Trailing her hand down his arm, she turned to leave. Harry watched as John's eyes were fixed on her leaving form.

Harry approached, pausing at John's side. "New friend?" Harry asked as she turned to look at John one more time, sending a small wave, completely ignoring Harry.

"I don't do friends," John said, turning away from her, though he still seemed a bit distracted. Harry couldn't blame him. A gorgeous girl would definitely be more interesting than Harry.

"So date? Or, well, not date because you don't do dating either," Harry went on. "What do you do? You know besides…" Harry considered his words. "Well, doing."

John looked at him, clearly amused. "You got the gist of it."

Harry resisted the urge to roll his eyes. John did do the bad boy thing well enough but sometimes he wondered how much was just talk. He didn't really go out all that much and he spent enough time talking to Harry that they would have to qualify as friendly if not friends. Harry was about to point this out when his uncle's gruff voice cut through the air.

"Boy!"

Harry froze for a moment before turning to see his uncle in the doorway. He hadn't known he was home, otherwise he wouldn't have stopped to talk to John. Where was the car? "I'll see you around," Harry muttered before heading towards his uncle.

Uncle Vernon grabbed Harry by the elbow and shoved him in the house. "What did I say about talking to that boy," Uncle Vernon growled out.

Harry pulled his arm away with a glare. "Don't touch me."

"You're going to listen to me, you got that?" Uncle Vernon continued, pointing his finger in Harry's face. "First Petunia tells me you were talking to him and again now? I won't deal with this disrespect in my own home."

"I wasn't in your home," Harry pointed out angrily. Uncle Vernon took a step toward him and Harry quickly stepped back, hand going involuntarily towards his back pocket where he kept his wand.

Uncle Vernon's eyes seemed to follow the motion. "Don't threaten me with that—that thing," his eyes went angrier. There was something off about his eyes.

"What? My wand?" Harry asked. "Don't worry, you're not worth it." Harry attempted to leave but apparently Uncle Vernon wasn't finished with him yet.

"Worth?" Uncle Vernon snarled. "You freak talk about worth with your bum father and you're whore mother."

Harry froze, skin prickling with anger. Even to him, the air around him seemed to grow sharp. He spun around, getting very close to his uncle. As Harry got in his face, he didn't even notice the size difference. "Don't you dare say that about my mother," he said very slowly, barely aware of Aunt Petunia watching from the kitchen.

"That was what she was," Uncle Vernon replied, a viciously satisfied smile on his face. "Why else such a young marriage? She got herself into a bit of trouble and had to marry your sorry excuse of a father to cover it up."

"My mother was not a whore," Harry growled, anger building up more. All Harry wanted in that moment was to punch this man in his face, but he still had enough sense to hold back. It wasn't a fair match. His uncle was too big. But the feeling was there. Throbbing through his body. He did the only thing he could do: he brushed past his uncle and out of the house before he could do something incredibly stupid. It took all his effort as his uncle laughed behind him.

With all his strength, Harry slammed the door behind him. The sky had grown slightly darker the few minutes he had been inside. He took a couple of steps away from the house, roughly running both hands through his hair. Had his mother only married his father because she was pregnant? After seeing Snape's memory, Harry had wondered why she married his father. Was this why? Did it matter? Harry hated it, but it did.

**PAGE BREAK**

As he fiddled with his lighter, John heard the door next door slam. From the porch where he had been about to light up a cigarette, he saw Harry running his hands through his hair, body tense. Anger. Apparently another fight. Putting the cigarette back into the pack, he took a step off the porch and paused to observe Harry who hadn't moved yet. What should he say?

"Can you stop doing that?" Harry snapped, glare turning towards John.

"Doing what?" John asked. Harry nodded towards John's lighter. John had forgotten it was still in his hand. He must've been flicking it open. "Touchy, huh?" That didn't do anything to soften Harry's glare. Holding his hands up in mock surrender, John turned around to go back inside.

"John," Harry called after him. He stopped, turning to look at Harry. "Do you love your mother? You know, even though you never knew her." Harry's eyes were a little less angry now, just confused.

"No," John answered. Of course, he didn't love his mother. She had left him. Besides, she would've hated him like every other human he had ever met. At his response, Harry's eyes turned to the ground. John didn't like the feeling in his stomach so he ignored the fact that it was getting dark. "Come on, I need help with an oil change." Even though he moved towards Mystique's car, Harry didn't follow. "It's a good skill to have, kid."

Harry looked up. "I don't even know how to drive. I don't think I really need to know how to do an oil change." Of course Harry didn't know how to drive. Who here would've taught him?

"Fine," John replied with a shrug. "Then, I'll teach you how to drive."

Harry looked at him curiously for a moment before glancing back at the house. "I don't think I should. I'm not really supposed to go far."

John raised his eyebrows. "Nervous about breaking the rules, kid?"

"Stop calling me kid," Harry said, tiredly. He looked back towards the house then down the street. What was he looking for? "You know what, why not?" Harry replied.

John gestured towards the passenger seat before they both got in. He drove for a bit, stopping when he reached a set of streets with minimal traffic. Putting the car into park, he turned towards Harry. "So you have no experience whatsoever with driving?" he asked with a shake of the head.

Harry rolled his eyes. "I think I have the basic idea." He eyed the stick. "Though maybe shifting gears will be a bit difficult."

"All right all knowing," John said, swinging the driver's door open. "Have a go."

After about a half hour, John had had enough. It probably wasn't the best idea to let a new driver handle a car he had just fixed. It made him paranoid. And Harry drove too fast. Once they parked in front of the park and switched back so that John was very comfortably back behind the wheel, John stared at Harry who looked like he had thoroughly enjoyed himself. It was definitely better than that sad confused look he had on earlier.

"You do know that most new drivers take it slow, right?" John asked.

Harry shrugged with a grin. "I like speed. Besides I didn't go too fast."

"Fast enough for a first timer…and for someone who doesn't know when to shift gears," John said, hand running along the steering wheel. "Poor girl."

Harry flinched though there was still a bit of a smile on his face. "Yeah, sorry about that." He glanced at the steering wheel then back at John. "And your car's a girl? Do I have to say sorry to her, too?"

"All cars are girls," John replied, patting the steering wheel. "I don't want you even talking to her after the way you treated her." Harry snorted and John sent him a grin. This kind of reminded him of when he was back at the mansion and Bobby and he had…he actually shook his head. The past was the past. He wouldn't think about it anymore. Even though when Harry smiled he kind of reminded him of Bobby. That had to be it. Why the no touching zone wasn't working.

Harry didn't seem to notice his internal struggle as he had apparently been thinking about something himself. "So why are all cars girls? Is it a guy thing and you know the metaphors about stuff like…" Harry made a face. "I don't know 'riding' or something. And the awkwardness if the car was another guy."

A small smile fought its way to John's face. He really hadn't been in this good of a mood in years. Not since…since, he'd leave it at that. He was getting really tired of memory lane. Especially since he thought he had demolished it after Alcatraz.

"If that was it, cars would be both, at least for me." Then John shrugged. "My dad always called cars girls. He's the one who taught me so I guess it stuck."

"Oh," Harry replied, eyebrows furrowed. "I thought he…" Harry made a vague gesture with his hand.

"Beat the shit out of me?" John asked helpfully. "Yeah, that, too." He didn't say anymore and Harry didn't push. Then the rest of his statement seemed to catch up to Harry.

"Both?" Harry asked, suddenly, eyebrows still furrowed for a moment before the light bulb seemed to click. "Oh, you mean…oh…" John laughed. He couldn't help it. He couldn't deny it this time. Harry reminded him of Bobby in moments because that was almost exactly how Bobby had reacted when John had told him. "You don't really come off as gay, bisexual…whatever." Harry tilted his head as if examining him. "Then again I don't know how bisexual would come off." Harry shrugged before a grin broke out on his face. It had taken Bobby a bit longer to recover. Stop thinking about Iceman, John scolded himself. Which wasn't too hard because Harry was still talking. "We let my uncle know that one and he may actually explode next time he sees me with you."

John smirked. "Why? He'd protect your virtue?"

"Virtue?" Harry repeated with a shake of his head. "No, I think he thinks it might be contagious. Freakish things tend to be." From the look on Harry's face, it was clear he thought it ridiculous.

"Like mutants?" John asked, growing serious for a moment as he remembered his mission.

"I don't think he's quite worried about me catching that one," Harry rolled his eyes. "Though I don't think he would care what I got up to in the bedroom either as long as the neighbors didn't see or know. Or maybe he'd still freak out." Harry seemed to be thinking out loud. He shrugged again. "But only two more months so whatever."

John watched as Harry eyed the time at the thought of his uncle. In profile, Harry had strong jaw. Strong features in general. As his face grew serious, he didn't look seventeen for a moment. Old beyond his years. John didn't know what he was thinking. He grabbed Harry's arm and pulled him in. John's lips captured Harry's and Harry seemed to just freeze.

In that moment, John barely managed to keep from freaking out. He pulled away very quickly, staring at the steering wheel. "I should get you home," he said without looking at Harry. What the fuck had he been thinking?

"John—"

"Don't say anything," John snapped, quickly putting the car back into drive and shooting out from the curb. Harry sat very quietly next to him as John determinedly looked at the road. Never mind what he was thinking: what the fuck had he done?


	4. Misjudged

_The Boy Next Door_

Summary: After the Cure fades away, Magneto needs to re-build his Brotherhood. He receives a tip that a powerful young mutant lives on Privet Drive. Posing as a family, Magneto, Mystique, and Pyro search for the mutant, becoming convinced that the boy next door, the apparently troubled Harry Potter is the mutant they're looking for.

Pairing: Slash. Harry/Pyro

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or the X-Men. J.K. Rowling, Marvel, and others have that honor.

Spoilers: HP 1-6. AU for summer of HP7. X1-3.

Warnings: Slash (not too explicit). Strong Language. Adult Concepts. Sexual Content. Violence/Abuse.

A.N. Thank you everyone the read, reviewed, or added me/this story to any alerts/favorites lists. I really appreciate it. Also before this pairing really gets started, I just want to say that I really don't do sex scenes or any really steamy scenes. I'm not good at writing it so it's best left to the imagination. Not to say any sex is about to happen.

**Chapter 4: Misjudged**

Harry was tired. Very tired. No matter how much he had tried, he hadn't been able to fall asleep the night before or even much the nights before that. Not that anyone could blame him. His neighbor—his very male neighbor—had kissed him. Actually kissed him. Harry still couldn't wrap his head around it. Why would John kiss him of all people? And then to top it all off, he very awkwardly ignored Harry and dropped him back home. But those were old thoughts. Thoughts he had thought for days already. That wasn't why he really couldn't sleep this past night. For the first time, a different thought had popped into his head. What did he feel about the whole thing?

The easy answer was that Harry wasn't sure. So confused was a good word to describe how he was feeling. But shouldn't he be disgusted or something? Another guy had kissed him. Yet, somehow he found himself more upset by the fact that John was apparently avoiding him. Harry had spotted him only a handful of times. It was getting ridiculous because Harry really wanted to talk to him. About what, Harry wasn't too sure. He just knew he liked John and still wanted to hang out with him. Why was John avoiding him anyway? It really shouldn't be a big deal for someone like John. So he kissed him. John struck Harry as the kind of guy that would shrug something like that off. He didn't have to worry about hurting Harry's feelings (though Harry wouldn't have thought John worried about stuff like that). Harry knew it was a mistake. What would a guy like John want with him?

And now, Harry was fed up. Stuff like this was stupid. It wasn't life or death. If Harry jumped into those kinds of situations, he could certainly jump into a situation like this. So he made a decision. Dressing real quick and throwing on a pair of shoes, Harry headed on next door (checking as he did so that Aunt Petunia wasn't spying on the neighbors) and knocked.

However, John wasn't the one to answer the door. Harry found himself eye to eye with John's creepy sister. He didn't trust that bright smile she threw at him. Predatory, he decided.

"Harry," Raven said in a friendly manner. "How can I help you?"

"Ah, actually, I was looking for your brother," he responded. "Is he in?" Raven seemed to study him for a moment before stepping aside.

"Come on in," Raven answered. "He's in his room. Upstairs, last door on the left."

Harry quickly stepped past her in case she changed her mind and after giving her a polite nod, followed her directions. He took a breath before knocking.

"Come in," John shouted.

Harry slowly swung open the door. John was sitting on his bed, scribbling furiously into a notebook. Interesting. Harry stepped in and slowly shut the door. He stood in silence, waiting for John to look up.

"What do you want, Sti—" John stopped very suddenly as his eyes landed on Harry. "What're you doing here?" he asked, tone annoyed.

"I wanted to talk to you," Harry said, taking a step towards the bookshelf and glancing at a few of the titles before looking back at John. "About the other night."

"I have nothing to say," John told him, returning to his notebook. Though his pen was poised over the paper, he made no move to write. "You can leave now." He sent Harry a challenging glare, but stuff like that wouldn't intimidate Harry. John couldn't push him around. He wanted answers.

"I can," Harry agreed. "But I'm not. I want to talk about the other night," he repeated.

John flipped the notebook closed and seemed to study Harry for a moment. "What do you want to know? Why I kissed you?" John shrugged. "It seemed like a good idea at the time. A misjudgment on my part."

"Misjudgment?" Harry asked, confused.

John's eyebrows rose, then he smirked. "Don't tell me you do swing my way…" Harry didn't say anything though he wanted to deny it. But why didn't he? The smirk faded before a serious looked appeared on John's face. "Listen kid, you're too young and I'm too old for me to be your little experiment."

Harry snorted. "Old? What are you…eighteen? Nineteen?"

"Twenty," John replied.

"Such a big difference," Harry rolled his eyes.

John appeared annoyed as he stood. "It is when you're underage. I don't care if you're going to be eighteen soon, you're still underage."

"Seventeen," Harry replied without really thinking.

"Seventeen," John repeated, confused for a moment before he made sense of it. "You're sixteen?" he asked, a little disbelieving. "That's worse! I have no business being attracted to a sixteen year old kid."

Harry paused, sidetracked for a moment. "Attracted?" he asked, eyebrows furrowing. "Wait, you're actually attracted to me?"

John stared at him. "Why else do you think I kissed you?" Harry didn't have an answer to that. He had been asking himself something similar. "I can't believe I kissed a sixteen year old," John continued more to himself, hand running along something in his pocket, probably his lighter.

Again with the age. "You're like three years older than me. I don't see why that's a big deal."

"Listen," John shook his head. "I'm not that guy. I'm not that guy who sleeps around with…" John made a vague motion at Harry. "With kids who don't even know which way they swing. I'm not that guy."

"Stop calling me a kid," Harry glared, quite frustrated. He finally realized why the whole thing bothered him so much. He _did_ want to be kissed by John. He didn't take the time to think about how odd that felt. "You keep calling me kid and you keep making yourself out to be some sort of pedophile or something. You're twenty, so what? I'm almost of age. And sure I didn't know I was in the business of kissing guys until like five minutes ago but whatever. I'm not a kid: I'm an adult. You have no idea what I've done or what I've seen."

John only stared at him, seemingly unimpressed. "Ki—Harry, look I've done a lot of things. I'm not a good guy but I'm good enough not to do what was done….never mind. The point is you're young and inexperienced. I'm not. And for someone like me to do anything with someone like you…" John sighed, a bit frustrated that Harry wasn't getting it. "Okay, so maybe you're not a kid, but this would be a bad idea. You have no idea what kind of person I am."

Harry studied him for a moment. John seemed to be perfectly comfortable with who he was but he was making himself out to be something horrible. And he wasn't looking at Harry anymore. "You've been better to me than most people I've met. You didn't have to check my arm or teach me how to drive or…"

"Maybe I had ulterior motives," John snapped, eyes very angry. "You ever think of that?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Well it can't be to get me into bed, can it?" But then he paused. Ulterior motives. He poised his hand, hesitating over his wand. Was John a Death Eater? Harry's arm relaxed. He couldn't be. John had plenty of chances to make a move.

They stood in silence. Harry thought it out. He didn't want to leave the room without something settled. But what did he want? Maybe he was at least kind of into guys. He couldn't deny that he was fascinated with John and was really annoyed with the fact that John didn't intend to kiss him again. So, yes, he was at least into John and John had admitted to being attracted to Harry (which still seemed odd to him). Harry didn't care about the age difference because it really wasn't much of one and he had no idea why John thought there was.

John stood on the opposite side of the room, arms crossed across his chest as he leaned against the wall. He was studying Harry almost disinterestedly but from their conversation, Harry expected it was an act. John had some serious issues with 'being that guy'—whatever that meant. He had issues, like Harry, which oddly enough made Harry want to try the whole kissing thing again.

Harry took a step forward and John's eyebrows rose. He paused. "Alright so you think you're too old for me or something."

"What do you think I've been saying?" John scoffed.

"So I'm a little late on the uptake," Harry shrugged. "But I'm going to convince you that you're wrong."

That seemed to peek John's interest if not just a little bit. "And how do you plan on doing that?"

"I don't know yet," Harry paused, eying John for a moment. "But you're going to stop avoiding me, okay?"

"Am I?" John asked, eyebrows raised and looking amused despite himself.

"Yeah," Harry grinned. "It's a bit juvenile, don't you think?"

John returned his grin, seemingly every inch despite himself this time.

**PAGE BREAK**

John was smoking a cigarette in the backyard when Harry came out the next day, newspaper in hand. Harry glanced up and down the fence line for a moment before hopping it. He didn't approach John who was leaning next to the back door. Instead, Harry leaned back on the fence in a similar way, green eyes studying him. Shaking his head, John spoke up: "I'm not gonna run away or anything."

"How mature of you," Harry responded before tossing the newspaper at him. John caught it, barely managing to keep from lighting it on fire with his cigarette. He glanced at the front cover to see a picture of Henry McCoy staring up at him, blue fur and all. _America's Mutant Secretary to Visit Parliament_.

John glanced over at Harry. "So? I've read it."

Harry shrugged. "Figured you did. Thought maybe you'd like to talk about mutant politics or something."

John paused, eying Harry suspiciously. "Why would I want to do that?" Had Harry figured something out?

"I don't know," Harry shrugged again before a small smile appeared on his face. "It seemed like a nice mature topic of conversation."

John almost laughed. So this was about Harry attempting to prove he was old enough for him. Or at the very least making a bit of a joke out of it because Harry didn't look completely serious about it if that grin that spread over his face said anything. But he had also unknowingly done something else. He just gave John a chance to do his job.

"Alright," John said, tossing the paper onto a small table on the patio area. "So what do you think?"

"Besides the fact that Parliament is a bunch of prejudiced tossers?" Harry asked. "And apparently the media too?"

John nodded slowly, studying Harry's facial expression. It was honest but not very passionate. This didn't seem personal to him. Were they barking up the wrong tree? "And how about McCoy there?" he asked, nodding towards the paper.

"He's one of the X-Men right?" Harry asked. "Honestly, it's nice to see a politician that doesn't just sit behind a desk. He donned the uniform and saved a bunch of people's asses despite the fact that they didn't deserve it."

"You don't like politicians, do you?" John asked, noticing that Harry seemed to be getting a little more into the subject.

"No," Harry said simply, jaw tightening a bit. "They sit back and let other people do the fighting while they play their little games." Harry paused, glancing at the newspaper again. "But at least the Americans are on the right track, right? They're at least trying to make peace. They're taking the first steps towards acceptance."

John noticed he had stopped actually smoking his cigarette. Putting it out, he responded, "Maybe."

"So what do you think?" Harry asked curiously.

John paused. That was the question wasn't it?

"I got a few errands to run," John replied instead. "I'll see you later."

Harry stopped him as he turned to open the door. "Wait." John turned back to see that Harry had taken a quick step away from the fence. "So how'd I do?"

"I don't know." It certainly didn't help John do the right thing. With one more glance at Harry, John went back into the house.

He ran into Mystique on the way upstairs. He didn't even get to the steps. She seemed to be waiting for him in the living room.

"So how'd it go?" she asked. He really didn't feel like dealing with her right now. He was too frustrated. There had been no outlet for his mutation for months and getting off wasn't helping anymore either because he wasn't getting what he wanted, namely one Harry Potter. It had to be psychological. He had to want him more because he couldn't have him. That's what it had to be.

"Where's Magneto?" he asked in turn, glancing around the room. Thinking about it, he hadn't seen him all day.

"Out," Mystique told him dismissively. "He'll be back soon. Now back to the question." Probably sensing he had not intentions to talk to her right now, Mystique flashed her eyes back to yellow, immediately looking more…well more everything. "Remember, while he's gone, you report to me."

"You wanna go get shot by a cure gun again?" John asked, rolling his eyes. "This whole second in command shit is getting old." It took him a second to realize that he had tread into dangerous waters, but he wouldn't back down. It was kind of a rush, that danger. And starting with Mystique was definitely dangerous, even if she was fond of him. Not as good as fire or the release that could only come with getting what he wanted, but it would do.

Mystique's eyes grew cold. "And you'd be perfectly willing to just abandon me if it happened again, wouldn't you?" Mystique's temper was always an iffy thing. Being trapped in suburbia could only be making things worse.

John remembered for a moment how he had felt when she had been hit by the cure. He had been shocked that Magneto was abandoning her, but Magneto had been right. She wasn't one of them then. "In a heartbeat, sweetheart," he finally responded, leaning towards her. "And don't pretend you wouldn't do the same."

That vicious smile made its way to Mystique's face as her eyes returned to blue. "Yet I don't have that track record against me, do I? You're good at turning your back on people, aren't you?"

"At least I don't have some sort of sick sense of loyalty," John returned, boiling for a fight. He couldn't use his powers and he couldn't screw the boy next door who wasn't making it easy for him either. A fight might help. It always did in the past. "I would've never taken a shot like that for Magneto and I certainly wouldn't follow him around like a fucking dog after he abandoned me. Tell me, do you have any self worth beyond Magneto?"

"Do you have any at all?" Mystique asked, standing. "You want to use the dog metaphor? Fine. Poor little Pyro is like a kicked dog in the corner, ready to bite even the hand that feeds." She took a step towards him. John's lighter was in his hand and flicked open in almost a split second. She smirked at the flame he palmed. "If it weren't for that power of yours, you'd be just another street kid. Nothing special about you at all. No one would want you then. Hell, the humans didn't even want you before you were one of us. And the X-Men certainly didn't fight for you, did they?"

John smirked though he fought back a snarl, letting the flame grow a little bigger. "Good thing I'm a mutant, huh?" He let his smirk grow into a grin. "And good thing I could have you on fucking fire before you even take another step towards me." He cocked his head. "Bitch."

They eyed each other, neither moving. He really didn't want to set her on fire. He liked her well enough, after all, but the idea of setting anything on fire was quite appealing. That would show her he wasn't some sort of victim. That he didn't need anyone fighting for him. He had the power. He was all he needed.

"Will you two give it a rest?" Their heads both jerked around very quickly to see Magneto. Apparently, they had both been so into their confrontation that they didn't even notice him coming in. "We have enough people to fight. We do not need to fight amongst ourselves." But they had both turned back to each other, bodies tense. "Stand down." They didn't move. "Stand down!" The metal in the room began to shake. Mystique's eyes turned to Magneto and she took a step away. John smirked, unwilling to let the flame go. "Pyro, put that out. Now." Sighing, he put the flame out, glaring over at Magneto as he did so. "Now what was this about?" Magneto asked, looking between them.

"Pyro doesn't recognize my authority over him," Mystique said. "From there, we had words."

"Words?" Magneto repeated, before glancing over at John. "You report to her while I am gone, do you understand?" John sneered but nevertheless nodded. Satisfied, Magneto turned back to Mystique. "What is it that you wanted from him?"

Mystique looked quite satisfied with herself. "He was just speaking to Harry Potter. I wanted to know how it went."

Magneto turned to John. "And?"

"He's pro-mutant, hates politicians, and is probably more likely to join the X-Men than us if he even is a mutant," he bit out, eyes boring into Magneto's.

Magneto thought for a moment. "I do not think I worry about his possible allegiances. Once we find out he is a mutant, we can work on him then.

"Great," John said, unimpressed. People like Harry weren't the kind of people who joined the Brotherhood. People like Harry were too good for this. "Am I done then?"

"One more minute of your time," Magneto said, unfazed by John's anger. "I will be in London until at least tomorrow. Until then, Mystique is in charge. Continue as you have been. Gain that boy's trust."

Clenching his jaw, John offered a tense nod of acknowledgment before making his way to his room. He was really itching for a fight.

**PAGE BREAK**

Harry didn't know exactly how it happened, but was pretty sure it owed at least partially to his own stupidity. Another argument had broken out at Number Four. Apparently one of the neighbors had informed Uncle Vernon that Harry was still talking to John. They really did have nosy neighbors.

Next thing he knew, they were shouting at each other, Uncle Vernon's hot breath in his face. It stank of some sort of alcohol. Harry should've known to back off. Some of his long stints in the cupboard back in the day had been initiated on the nights his uncle had been drinking. But Harry didn't back off and he didn't see it coming. Uncle Vernon threw Harry roughly into the hall table against the wall. Losing his balance, Harry had ended up on the floor with Uncle Vernon's shoe slamming into his ribs. He had gotten two kicks in before Aunt Petunia managed to pull him away.

"Leave," she had hissed at Harry. Though she probably meant for him to go to his room, Harry wasn't staying in the house. Standing outside with a warm breeze hitting his face, Harry wondered now what the hell had just happened. Uncle Vernon had never been that violent towards him. And now his side was killing him, a sharp pain radiating through his ribs. Had he broken something?

Harry wasn't sure what to do. He had no way of getting a doctor to check it out. Then his eyes landed on Number Six. John. Sighing, and then immediately noting not to sigh because sighing equaled pain, Harry looked at Number Six. The kitchen light in the back was on. Making sure that he couldn't spot a nosy neighbor spying on him, Harry slowly climbed over the side fence and into Number Six's backyard. He knocked softly on the door, hoping that John was sitting there in the kitchen.

Apparently the world was momentarily on his side. John stood in the doorway, staring down at him curiously. "Hey," Harry offered. "Can I come in?"

John said nothing, only stepping aside to let him in. Harry wandered into the kitchen, glad to see no one else in it. He peeked towards the living room. "Don't worry, no one's in. M—my grandfather's out of town and Raven's out somewhere. Probably preying on some unsuspecting man."

Harry snorted as he turned around, then winced. John's eyebrows furrowed. "I was just thinking the other day that your sister looked kind of predatory."

But John ignored his words. "Why'd you wince?"

"Got in a fight," Harry offered. "I think I lost." He waited for John to say 'I told you so' or ask for more information but he didn't, only walking over to him.

"Where does it hurt?" John asked.

"My side," Harry responded. "Ribs probably."

John lifted his shirt, warm hands skirting over Harry's skin. It felt nice in the cool of the kitchen. "Your left side," he said, probably more for confirmation as his hands had already made their way to Harry's ribs. "Hold up your shirt," he ordered as Harry nodded. John's thumb skimmed over Harry's ribs for a moment. "This is gonna hurt."

"It already does, so go for it," Harry replied with a shrug and then a wince.

"Don't do that," John said. He pressed softly into Harry'r ribs. Though he winced, Harry kept from jumping. John repeated the action. Nodding to himself, he stepped away from Harry. "Two cracked ribs," he informed him. "Nothing too dangerous. They're not damaged enough to be a risk to your lungs."

Harry let his shirt fall, watching as John walked away from him. For a moment, he thought John was heading towards the door to let him out, but instead John stopped at the fridge, opening the freezer. "There are little plastic bags in that drawer," John gestured towards the cabinets next to Harry. "Grab one."

Nodding, Harry did as ordered. As he opened the bag, John came over with a handful of ice. He took the bag from Harry and put the ice in before grabbing a paper towel to wrap around the bag. When he was finished, he handed it over to Harry who took it slowly.

"I don't really like ice," Harry said, feeling the cold in his hand. "You sure we can't do the whole heat pack thing?"

John was looking at him oddly and Harry couldn't place the look. Before he could even get close, John shook his head. "Heat only works for muscles. Ice will keep inflammation down." He nodded towards Harry's side. "Now put it on before it melts."

Harry did as told, eyes fixed on John as he did so. John's eyes followed the makeshift icepack to Harry's ribs before turning to Harry's. "Your uncle do this?" he asked almost carefully.

"It was a fight," Harry told him uncomfortably. He did after all have a part in it. And, besides, Harry had faced Voldemort and lived: he wasn't some sort of abuse victim of his muggle uncle.

"Yeah, you throw the first punch?" John asked, annoyed.

"No," Harry replied, annoyed himself. He didn't really feel like another pseudo-lecture from John. "But it was just an argument that got out of hand."

"Out of hand?" John repeated, eyes growing harder. "That man's almost twice your size. And he's your guardian. I don't fucking care what you said to him, there's no way he should've touched you."

Harry sighed, ignoring the pain in his side. "I get it, alright?" he snapped. "Your dad beat the hell out of you. It's a touchy subject. But that's no what's happening here."

John's eyebrows rose. "So in the last couple of weeks the man's sprained your wrist and broken a few of your ribs. You wanna tell me again that's not what's happening here?"

"Yes," Harry hissed out. "It isn't a pattern. Two isolated incidents don't make a pattern."

"So I have to wait for the third for it to be a pattern?" John snapped back. "The man's hurting you. Why are you protecting him?"

"I'm not protecting him," Harry glared. "All I'm saying is I'm not some sort of _victim_, alright? There are people who depend on me, who…I'm not the victim." Harry couldn't say anymore without it sounding weird to a muggle like John. John didn't know who Harry was. And that was somehow incredibly attractive even at the same time that John was incredibly frustrating.

John's eyes intensely bore into his. Harry's anger began to fade. John seemed to care. Maybe he needed some sort explanation. "Listen, this is a new thing. I'm only here for another two months anyway. Then I'm gone and I never have to see that man again."

"Why wait the two months?" John asked, studying him.

"Where am I supposed to go?" Harry asked, shaking his head. "Trust me it's too dange—in two months I have someplace to go. In two months, I can take care of myself just fine." This was getting increasingly frustrating. How could he communicate that in two months he could protect himself from the danger that followed him around without the risk of having the Ministry breathing down his neck without bringing up magic or sounding strange? "You ran away before you were of age. How did that work out for you?"

"I'm alive, aren't I?" John responded, clearly as a challenge.

Harry shook his head, remembering past conversations with Dumbledore. "There are things worse than death. Trust me, John, I know what I'm doing. It's safer for me here, even with my uncle, than out there."

John cocked his head. He had to know that Harry was skirting around something, but he didn't continue, instead offering his own sigh. He nodded towards the icepack. "How's your side?"

Harry paused, surprised. Somehow he had forgotten about it. It hurt still, but more of a dull pain instead of sharp. In fact, the ice had made it somewhat numb. "I think you've distracted me," Harry pointed out. "It's fine." He lifted the ice and saw some bruising, but overall not too bad.

John came to his side again and ran a hand along his ribs. This time, against his cool skin, John's warm hands, hot really, felt really good. Without really realizing, he found himself closing his eyes against the touch. "You're really hot," Harry said. When John snorted, Harry's eyes flew open. He pulled away. "I mean your temperature not you…well I mean, you're actually really hot, too, which is odd to think about because…well you know."

John was watching him in amusement, smirking slightly. "I know what you meant." John looked at him oddly again and Harry thought for a second he knew what that look meant. Ignoring the pain in his ribs, he took a quick step towards John and pulled him into a kiss. John's lips crashed into his. He didn't pull back this time. John's hot lips pressed into his as his equally hot hand found its way to the back of Harry's neck, pulling him in closer. Harry made a noise in the back of his throat as he took a step closer.

John pulled away for a moment, catching his breath before crashing his lips into Harry's again. He trailed his tongue along Harry's bottom lip. This was nothing like kissing Cho or Ginny. It was so much better. Harry opened his mouth and as their tongues clashed, neither gaining control, he found himself pushed against the wall. He winced as he hit the wall and jolted his ribs. He immediately regretted it because John pulled away very quickly.

He took a big step away from Harry, hand wiping against his mouth. "This is a mistake."

"Not that again," Harry complained. "I'm perfectly willing. You're not taking advantage of me."

"It's not only that. I just hurt you," John said.

Harry rolled his eyes. "My uncle hurt me. You just jolted me a bit which is fine. It didn't hurt that bad."

John shook his head. "I really can't do this."

"Like I said, you completely can. I'm willing. Come on, it's only like a three year difference."

"It's not…" John's eyebrows furrowed, struggling over something. "You're a good ki—guy. Fine, we're close enough in age," John corrected himself as he caught Harry's glare. "It's just…Harry, I'm not a good guy. I've done things that you can't even imagine. You don't need that. You don't deserve it. You still believe in peace and acceptance and I…" He ran a hand through his hair, looking away from Harry. "I can't ruin that."

"You won't," Harry took a step forward. "Trust me, I'm very stubborn in what I believe. And I don't even know whether peace and acceptance are even possible, just that I'd fight for it, you know?"

"So you're far nobler than me," John took another step away from him, glancing away for a moment. His eyes met Harry's before he took a step forward. "Harry, I believe in revenge. I believe that the people that hurt me should suffer."

"Like your father," Harry said, watching John curiously.

"And all of his kind," John continued, eyes intense. "I think they should all burn."

"They probably should," Harry agreed, thinking about Voldemort and the Death Eaters. Sure taking them out meant the opportunity for peace but it also meant something else. John looked taken back. "And I want to take down the man that killed me parents. The people who keep taking everything from me. I believe in peace and acceptance after taking out the bad guys. See I'm not all too noble."

"You told me your parents died in a car crash," John pointed out. Harry had forgotten for a moment that he had, but what did it matter?

Harry shrugged. "That's what my aunt and uncle told me, but they didn't." Harry was growing angry just thinking about it. "They were murdered and the man who did it is going to pay." He had been on edge all summer. He had chalked it up to Dumbledore's death, to the Horcrux hunt. That did feed the anger but there was something else. He was fed up. He was ready to fight the war because he needed to take out Voldemort, to help take out the Death Eaters, more than ever. Sure, saving the wizarding world and a want for peace drove him, but so did revenge. He was angry. He remembered that burning rage he felt the last time he was confronted with Voldemort, or Bellatrix, or even Snape.

John, meanwhile, was staring at him, eyes just slightly darker. "I think I misjudged you," he said slowly. "You're not exactly who I thought you were."

"Is that a bad thing?" Harry asked, eying John and wanting nothing more in that moment to still be kissing.

"No, it's fucking hot," John replied with a grin before pulling Harry into a quick, rough kiss. He pulled away, looking very closely at Harry. "You're not so boy next door, are you?"

"I have my moments," Harry said, with a small shrug. "I'm complicated."

"Yeah," John breathed, grinning inches away from Harry's lips. "You're still a good guy though. There's just less of you to corrupt than I thought."

"Hmmm…" Harry breathed, eyes traveling to John's lips. "There's still plenty though." He captured John's lips in his own.


	5. Diving In

_The Boy Next Door_

Summary: After the Cure fades away, Magneto needs to re-build his Brotherhood. He receives a tip that a powerful young mutant lives on Privet Drive. Posing as a family, Magneto, Mystique, and Pyro search for the mutant, becoming convinced that the boy next door, the apparently troubled Harry Potter is the mutant they're looking for.

Pairing: Slash. Harry/Pyro

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or the X-Men. J.K. Rowling, Marvel, and others have that honor.

Spoilers: HP 1-6. AU for summer of HP7. X1-3, First Class.

Warnings: Slash (not too explicit). Strong Language. Adult Concepts. Sexual Content. Violence/Abuse.

A.N. Thank you readers and reviewers! I definitely didn't expect as much feedback as I've been getting. So I'm definitely playing with the characters a little differently here. I don't want to keep writing the same relationship. I hope it still feels in character. And yay for more allusions to action rather than awkwardly written action!

So part of this chapter is taken straight out of DH, American version, pg 28. It will be underlined. So basically, the only part of the summer in DH happening in this story is the Dumbledore articles. Literally taken word for word so it belongs very much so to J.K. Rowling.

**Chapter 5: Diving In**

The next morning, John headed to the kitchen to get his coffee in a better mood than usual. Normally, it would take more than a make-out session to lighten his mood but this was different. He had wanted Harry for weeks and even if he didn't get to get him out of his system completely, Harry was definitely a talented enough kisser to put him on his way. It especially helped matters that John didn't feel so bad anymore being attracted to him now that he knew that Harry wasn't some completely naïve kid-all good thoughts and even better intentions (and if that didn't remind him of someone).

Unfortunately, his good mood couldn't last. Mystique was waiting for him at the kitchen table. He paused in the doorway, eying her a bit cautiously.

"Truce," Mystique offered as she peered at him in amusement.

"Is this a real truce?" John asked, making sure to keep an eye on her as he headed for his coffee. "Or one of those truces which isn't really a truce, just something you say so that I'll let my guard down."

"What kind of person do you think I am?" she asked, grin firmly planted on her face.

John stared at her. "Don't you try that whole honorable thing. I know your style."

"Are you calling me dishonest?" she asked as she watched him pour his coffee and pour some sugar in. "And do you really need that much sugar?"

John ignored her dig at his caffeine and sugar habits as he brought his coffee over to the table and sat across from her. "Stique you lie and impersonate people for a living….well not a living because Magneto doesn't exactly pay us."

Mystique's grin grew larger. "Pot, kettle, black." John shrugged. He knew Mystique and he were of the same stock. "Anyway, I mean it about the whole truce thing. Both of us are going crazy here. We're going to say things we don't mean. Or at least for you, things you know might start a fight." She looked over at him fondly. For a moment, John's mind flashed to Professor Xavier and he immediately felt uncomfortable with her looking at him like that.

John let out a small laugh as he realized something. "Man, all it took was you getting laid to become all Zen about it."

"I wouldn't call it Zen," she shrugged. "Though it did help."

"It's just an expression," John rolled his eyes, before leaning towards her. "So that good, huh?"

Mystique shrugged again with a mischievous smile. "You haven't been sharing with me. Why should I share with you?" John froze for a moment. Mystique hadn't even been home last night. How could she know about his practically innocent make-out session with Harry? Harry had even left before she got home. "Since we got here you haven't exactly shared your conquests." John relaxed. She meant weeks past.

She was right of course. Since about the time he stopped being scared of her, and Magneto and she came to trust him enough to let him out, they had this weird bonding thing about the people they slept with. John had been surprised the first time it happened but he had a feeling that Mystique had never had anyone she could do that with. As for John, while he used to share all his stories with Bobby, it was different having someone around with even better stories. So bonding.

"Fine, truce," John decided, taking a gulp from his coffee. "And don't tell me about your night." He smirked over at her. "Slut."

"I can say the same for you," she responded coolly, but her eyes remained amused.

"Depraved bitch," John followed up.

"Again," Mystique's face broke out in a smile, "I can say the same for you."

"As a man, I'm kind of insulted," John put his coffee down. "Come on, how about asshole? Or bastard?"

"Pyro, you bitch more than I do," Mystique replied plainly.

John shrugged. "Sadly, I've been told that before."

"Somehow I'm not surprised."

They exchanged grins. Mystique had to be the only good thing left about Brotherhood life. That was enough. For now.

**PAGE BREAK**

Harry barely had the back door open before John slipped in. John, at least, had the presence of mind to push the door closed before pulling him into a kiss. A really, really good one, while also managing not to jolt Harry's aching ribs. Nonetheless, Harry pushed him away. Immediately, John tried to pull him back in but Harry stopped him.

"You can't do this," Harry told him, holding back a grin. "Someone could've been home." John trailed his lips down Harry's neck. Harry squirmed and felt more than saw John grin into his neck before pulling back. But at least John wasn't having second thoughts. And neither was Harry. He didn't have time for some sexual identity crisis. He'd push that off to some later time when making out with John didn't seem quite so appealing. So they were both diving in, forgetting whatever qualms they should have.

"But they're not. I saw them leave and everything," John told him, slipping his hand under Harry's shirt and running a warm hand over Harry's injured ribs. Harry breathed slowly in. That felt really good. "Though to be safe we might want to move to your bedroom."

At this, John finally did pull away and Harry was struck with the immediate loss of heat. "Er, sure," Harry said, thinking very quickly. He just had to slip in the room first and hide his books. A pet owl was easier to explain away than a couple of spell books, not to mention the moving photo of his parents. "Just, uh, follow me then."

John smirked, probably at Harry's lack of eloquence, but didn't say anything. Harry led the way up the stairs, thinking of some quick excuses. Somehow he didn't think a mess was a good excuse. They stopped at Harry's door. "What are we waiting for?" John asked, leaning on the wall next to the door.

"Can you wait out here for about a second?" Harry asked hopefully.

"Why?" John asked.

"Just make my life a little easier, alright?" Harry offered, only to get a strange look. Then they heard it: a hoot coming from his bedroom. Thank you Hedwig, Harry thought to himself as John's eyebrows furrowed. "Um, I have to make sure my owl is in her cage. You really don't want her attacking you."

John raised his hands in mock surrender and, without letting out a breath of relief, Harry slipped into his room. He grabbed the few books and photos he had out and threw them in the trunk, glad that this summer he had tried to limit the amount of stuff he had laying around in case he had to take off suddenly. Now, he was just going to keep everything in his trunk. Finally, he turned to Hedwig who was watching him carefully from her cage.

"Hey, girl," Harry said as he walked over to her. "I have to shut this now." He made a move for the cage door but she quickly flew out of the cage, then glared at him from the closed window. "Fine, go out then. Just try not to be seen." He opened the window for her and watched as she flew away. Sighing, he couldn't think of a reason that she was angry with him this time but he guessed it worked itself out. Thinking about it, he didn't really want her sitting there and watching anyway.

Harry opened the door and stepped aside for John to come in. Sitting on his bed, he watched as John looked around. "So where's the bird?" John asked, nodding at the cage.

"I let her out," Harry shrugged. "She'll come back." John really didn't seem to care as he moved on to glancing at other things in the room. He held up the broken air rifle. "Dudley's" Harry explained. "He sat on it. Back when he was almost as wide as he was tall."

"You have a lot of toys," John said.

"All Dudley's," Harry told him with his own shrug. "I wasn't really a toy kid."

John studied him for a moment. "Or they never really gave you any toys."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Not this again. Yes, I had toys. Granted, they were hand-me-downs but I wasn't exactly deprived." John looked unconvinced. "So are you going to stand in my bedroom analyzing my childhood or are we going to snog or something?"

John shook his head with a small smirk. "Very good point," he said as he leaned over Harry. Kissing him, he pushed Harry back on the bed. This was weird, Harry realized. John was a guy. Last time Harry had done this (granted without the bed) it was with Ginny who was very much a girl. He didn't know where to put his hands now. Did the same rules still apply? Harry had been too caught up in the fight then the kissing to worry about it last night. Today, it was different. Harry froze long enough to make John pause.

"Something the matter?" John asked, pulling away, hanging over Harry who was still partially sitting up.

"I don't know what I'm doing," Harry voiced. John stared, waiting for more. "You're a guy." Again, he stared. "And I'm a guy." No reaction. "I don't know what to do with that."

Finally, John's expression changed as he appeared ridiculously amused. Harry glared. He didn't like being laughed at. "Alright, different parts than you're used to," John said with a grin. "Look at it this way. We both got the same parts. Chances are what you like, I probably like." He shrugged. "If not, I'll let you know."

"I'm sure you will," Harry rolled his eyes, letting John kiss him again but he didn't return it.

John sighed. "What now?"

"Um, no parts, okay?" Harry replied, feeling like an idiot.

"I wasn't planning on making you give it up or anything," John laughed. "At least not today." And for some strange reason, that hit Harry and he couldn't explain how it felt. So he kissed John who grinned into it, probably amused at the initiation, the asshole. John didn't try to push Harry down again, basically kneeling over him as he slipped his tongue inside his mouth. John pulled away slowly. "See, you know what you're doing." This time he did push Harry down but positioned himself so he wasn't on top of him anymore, more next to him than anything. "I can teach you anything else."

"Sounds good," Harry replied, pulling John in for another kiss, this time letting John drive it, at least for a little while. The way John kissed sent all his blood south and before he knew it, he was trying to get closer to John.

John pulled away, a little out of breath but still with too much control for Harry's liking right now. "Fuck, do you dive into everything that fast?"

"What's the problem?" Harry asked, eying John's lips.

"Too fast," John told him.

Harry snorted. "Didn't think there was such a thing with you. Some bad boy."

"Weirdly enough I feel better corrupting you slowly," John replied. "I don't know why."

"Well, you've got about two months," Harry told him. "Don't go too slowly."

John grinned. "Ah, so I'm your little summer experiment." Harry didn't tell him that was all he had time for but John didn't seem to mind the idea though, as he slowly kissed the crook of Harry's neck. Harry maneuvered so that he could catch John's mouth with his. A little summer experiment before he possibly marched to his death.

**PAGE BREAK**

It didn't happen often, but every once in a while, Mystique was unsure about what to do, where her loyalty was. The last time it had happened was at Alkali Lake when she spotted Charles' kids locked up from a screen in the controls room. For a moment, she had wanted to save them but she knew she needed to see the greater picture. Just like when she left Charles, shot and paralyzed, to join Erik all those years ago. Just like now when she wasn't sure whether she should give in to her affection for Pyro or her loyalty to Erik.

Though not as skilled in covertness as she herself, Pyro was usually pretty adept at it. Apparently not today. She had seen him slip into Number Four which, considering he had been ordered to get close to one of its residents wasn't that odd, but Pyro had made a mistake. He forgot about the window. So Mystique had gotten an eyeful of Pyro with his tongue down his target's throat. Pyro really had very little self control. He must've given up on the Harry-Potter-is-too-young thing.

Though partially amused and feeling just ever so slightly victorious, Mystique really wished she hadn't seen anything. Now, she had to decide whether to report what she had seen to Magneto. Pyro was still following orders—he was certainly bonding with their target—but Mystique worried that wasn't all he was doing. Because when he had pulled away from that boy, he had smiled. Mystique had never seen that smile.

"Lost in your thoughts, my dear?" Erik asked, as he entered the kitchen, just arriving home from his small trip.

"I suppose," Mystique replied, eying him momentarily. Who was she loyal to? The answer was easy: the mission. And the mission was not at risk yet. Erik didn't need to know what she knew. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

**PAGE BREAK**

Maybe John was losing his edge. The other day he had stopped Harry from going further than he thought the guy was ready for and today he was just perfectly satisfied to hang out with him. Mystique and Magneto had went off to London to evaluate the reaction to Beast's visit to Parliament, so John had laid out in the yard to read and enjoy some sun. An hour or two in, Harry had joined him, sitting himself down on the patio to read a newspaper or something. He hadn't said hello or anything, just walked in and sat down, as if not wanting to interrupt.

Reaching the end of the chapter, John shut his book and turned his head to watch Harry, his face serious over the newspaper. John kind of liked the way Harry's eyebrows furrowed. He probably should be worried about that but as Harry had said the other day: this was only for two months. Might as well enjoy it without worrying. They were only fooling around anyway, even if John was holding back.

"Hey to you too," John finally said as he realized Harry wasn't going to look up from the newspaper any time soon.

Harry glanced up, looking distracted. "Sorry, hi," he replied, setting the newspaper aside. "I didn't want to bother you."

"Anything interesting in there?" John asked, nodding towards the paper. He wondered if Harry was reading up more about Beast's visit.

Harry shrugged. "A family was murdered the next town over," he told him. "Unexplained death."

"I read that," John replied, sitting up. "They're blaming mutants." Harry didn't say anything but he seemed bothered. John wet his lips as he studied him. "You seem awfully interested in mutant affairs."

"I'm not. I don't think any mutants were involved in the murders," Harry said, his face still very tense. But why?

"Hmmm," John replied non-committing. He pulled out his lighter, resisting the urge to flick it open. "So you're not a mutant?"

Harry smiled, shaking his head. "No, I'm not a mutant," he replied, seeming amused. "Why?"

"Seemed like a good reason for your family to hate you and this whole neighborhood to be very weird about you," John offered nonchalantly. Either Harry was a good liar or he really wasn't the mutant they were looking for. John was leaning towards the latter but he didn't necessarily need to report that back to his boss. Then he would be told to move on to another target and John doubted another target would be nearly as fun as this one.

"My family hates me because they hated my parents," Harry said, a little carefully maybe. "The neighborhood hates me because I'm some loner kid, apparently. Oh, and I go to a school for criminals."

John snort. "You're no criminal."

Harry grinned. "I know some people that wouldn't agree with you. I'm a Potter," he said as if that explained everything.

"So?"

"It means I have a problem with following rules," Harry said a bit cheerfully.

"I bet that goes over well at St. Brutus'," John replied, amused.

"I guess you can say that," Harry said with a shrug. His eyes landed on the paper again and his demeanor seemed to literally sink. He looked back over at John, eyes becoming set.

"I don't want to talk anymore," Harry practically announced.

"Alright," John said. "So what do you want to do?" John could practically see Harry come to a decision. He really did have an incredibly expressive face. Standing, he headed over towards where John was sitting in the middle of the grass. Harry somewhat kneeled next to him, head still high enough over John that John had to tilt his head up to look at him.

"I kind of want to be corrupted," Harry informed him, still obviously amused by the whole idea. So John kissed him, perfectly happy to do the corrupting.

**PAGE BREAK**

Harry paused in organizing his trunk as the Daily Prophet arrived. As it seemed lately like the Ministry was suppressing Voldemort related news, Harry wasn't going to read it. That was until he spotted a picture of Dumbledore and the headline: **Dumbledore—the Truth at Last?** It couldn't be another obituary, could it? Then he saw Rita Skeeter's name mentioned and he knew he had to read it. Sentence after sentence portrayed Dumbledore darker and more corrupt.

Harry reached the bottom of the article, but continued to stare blankly at the page. Revulsion and fury rose in him like vomit; he balled up the newspaper and threw it, with all his force, at the wall, where it joined the rest of the rubbish heaped around the overflowing bin.

He begun to stride blindly around the room, opening empty drawers and picking up books only to replace them on the same piles, barely conscious of what he was doing, as random phrases from Rita's article echoed in his head: _An entire chapter to the whole Potter-Dumbledore relationship…It's been called unhealthy, even sinister…He dabbled in the Dark Arts himself in his youth…I've had access to a source most journalists would swap their wands for…_

"Lies!" Harry bellowed, and through the window he saw the next-door neighbor, who had paused to restart his lawn mower, look up nervously.

He tried to calm himself down but everything felt like it was bubbling up. He paced the room, eyes landing on the neighbor. John…he could go see John. Harry had no idea what John could do to calm him down but that didn't matter.

Harry slipped out without either his aunt or uncle noticing. The t.v. was blaring too loud for them to even hear him close the door. That lawn mowing neighbor pretended not to notice him from across the street. Going to the door of Number Six, Harry really hoped the neighbor wouldn't say anything to his uncle. He knocked and was disappointed when Raven answered the door.

"Harry," Raven greeted curiously.

He took a breath. "Is—"

"John's in his room," she told him before he could even ask. "I think you know the way."

Offering her a cautious nod, he jogged up the stairs, glad to not run into the grandfather who he hadn't actually spoken to since he had barged out of the house during their dinner. Harry knocked on John's bedroom door. He waited for the shouted invite before he pushed into the room.

John sat on his bed in a pair of sweats and no shirt as he was placing more lighter fluid in his zippo. Harry paused, but John didn't look up.

"Hey," Harry offered. John looked up, surprised.

John's eyebrows furrowed. "What are you doing here?"

"I don't really know," Harry said with a sigh, oddly enough finding his eyes traveling John's body. It was the first time he actually really looked at another guy's body. The lean tone to John's upper body made Harry feel something akin to nervousness.

"Did your uncle—" John started, snapping his lighter shut.

"No, nothing like that," Harry said very quickly, because John was looking awfully angry. "It's just…" What could he say? That lies were being spread about him and his mentor in magical newspapers? No, John didn't know.

"You're very tense," John eyed him. Harry shrugged but it seemed jerky even to him. John stood, peering at him. "What happened?"

"I—I can't really say," Harry said, stepping towards John's desk a bit randomly. "I mean it wouldn't make sense to you. It's about someone I care—I mean cared about. He's dead and someone said something and…" Well, wasn't he eloquent. But he didn't know how to talk about his emotions even with people he could tell the full story to, of course he wouldn't do well with half-truths.

"Is this the person you made that promise to?" John asked. "That you would stay here?" Harry nodded. "And you're upset." Again, Harry nodded. "And you came to me?" At this point, John sounded incredulous.

"It made sense at the time," Harry replied with a sigh. "I mean I can go but…" Harry shrugged again, turning to leave but John's hand on his shoulder stopped him. Harry stiffened, tense enough as it was. It felt like after his earlier outburst after reading the article, he was doing best to hold in his emotions when all he really wanted to do was unleash them. Lash out. But he had nothing to lash out at, not here.

John turned Harry around to face him, eyes studying him. They stood there, neither saying anything, John sort of peering at him and Harry ignoring that John looked really good without a shirt. Then John made a move. Harry felt John's hands on his jeans. Slowly, eyes still on Harry's, John unbuttoned Harry's jeans, then unzipped the fly. "Tell me if you want me to stop," John told him quietly.

"What are you doing?" Harry asked, voice embarrassingly breaking as John's hand brushed against him.

"Making you feel better," John replied, dropping to his knees. Harry didn't argue, couldn't, because he was already forgetting about Dumbledore. And because, no matter how fast this was, he really, really wanted this, ever since their second snogging session, but never would've asked for it. So he didn't tell him to stop because this was exactly what he needed.


	6. Being Pyro, Being John

_The Boy Next Door_

Summary: After the Cure fades away, Magneto needs to re-build his Brotherhood. He receives a tip that a powerful young mutant lives on Privet Drive. Posing as a family, Magneto, Mystique, and Pyro search for the mutant, becoming convinced that the boy next door, the apparently troubled Harry Potter is the mutant they're looking for.

Pairing: Slash. Harry/Pyro

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or the X-Men. J.K. Rowling, Marvel, and others have that honor.

Spoilers: HP 1-6. AU for summer of HP7. X1-3, First Class.

Warnings: Slash (not too explicit). Strong Language. Adult Concepts. Sexual Content. Violence/Abuse.

A.N. Yay feedback! Thank you! Here's a treat: a really quick update. This is what happens when I do a bunch of my schoolwork at work and have free time. Shortish but hey that's two chapters in two days.

Just a reminder, this is movie-verse which means I take full liberty with what happened after X3. While some things about Pyro are taken from the comics, comic-verse is mostly ignored. Oh and I don't do graphic scenes! Sorry to those who'd like to read them.

Also, I figured out why I'm not so happy with this story. While I love to focus on relationship development, it feels like nothing's happening (at least until the end which I've had planned out since before I started writing this). Anyway, I'm going to make more stuff happen starting now…

**Chapter 6: Being Pyro, Being John**

Magneto studied his young Pyro who was watching him, unimpressed. "Did you want something?" Pyro asked, flicking his lighter open and closed. Lately, he had been doing that more often. Sometimes, the boy let his power control him, not the other way around. While his hatred of control was once useful, it did get tiresome with that constant clicking noise. The lighter snapped shut with a resounding metallic sound. Pyro glared as it wouldn't open again. "Dick move," he growled.

"Watch your mouth," Magneto reminded him. "And I cannot talk to you while you're playing with that lighter."

"Give me back my igniters and you can talk all you want," Pyro replied, leaning back in frustration.

Magneto eyed him, not bothering to respond to the boy's whining. "If you would behave like an adult, please, I have a mission for you."

That got Pyro's attention. He sat up straighter, slipping his lighter back into his pocket. "I'm listening," he prompted.

Magneto nodded, pleased. One only needed to know how to talk to the boy. "While you were with Charles, did you ever meet Henry McCoy?"

"No," Pyro answered, interest clearly piqued. "Alcatraz is the closest I've ever gotten to him and even that wasn't very close." He ran a hand through his hair. "Back when I was a blond." He smirked.

"Good," Magneto responded. "Beast is carrying a number of important documents with him. Mystique has tried hacking into his files, but she found nothing of interest. We think the files we need exist only as hard copies. He is staying in a hotel just blocks away from Parliament. You need to get us a copy of the documents, without alerting him. Discreetly." Magneto stressed this last part. If it was up to Pyro, everything would be done loudly and with fire but he wasn't incapable of discreet.

Pyro grinned. "So a challenge. But why isn't Mystique doing it? Isn't she usually your go-to-girl for this kind of shit?"

"Again, language," Magneto warned. "I have Mystique working on another project."

"You have a plan or is this one up to me?"

"I'll leave you to it," Magneto stood to leave but then turned back. "I expect to hear that you have it by tomorrow night."

"Wait, documents?" Pyro leaned forward. "That's all you're giving me. What kind of documents?"

"Something to do with your old friends," Magneto offered with a small smirk. Turning, he left Pyro to his plans. This was exactly what Pyro needed. Sure he could have given the mission to Mystique, but if Pyro got too bored or too unattached from the fight, Magneto risked losing him. Now he couldn't have that.

**PAGE BREAK**

"Harry!" Dudley's voice came booming up the stairs. "Someone's at the door for you!"

Eyebrows furrowing, Harry gave Hedwig the last of the treats in his hand. He jogged down the stairs, but no one was near the front door so he headed to the kitchen. John stood, leaning against the counter as Dudley eyed him in confusion.

Harry stopped in the doorway. John looked over at him, face neutral. Harry ignored that weird feeling in his stomach as he took him in, remembering the other night. "Can I speak to you real quick?" John asked, glancing at Dudley dismissively.

"I'm going to go back in there," Dudley announced, pointing absentmindedly towards the living room. "And watch some telly or something," he muttered more to himself.

Harry watched his cousin leave before turning very quickly to John. "What are you doing here?" he half-whispered.

"Relax," John rolled his eyes. He stepped towards Harry with a small smirk. John leant in to kiss him but Harry turned away. John sighed. "Problem?"

"Yes, I have a problem," Harry glared. "I don't need my cousin seeing this. If he says something to my uncle about you even stopping by…" Harry trailed off.

"My presence alone is a problem?" John asked, apparently somewhat amused. "Seems like a pattern with me."

Harry snorted, but moved on. "What's going on?"

"I'm not going to be around for a few days," John told him. "I have something I have to do." Harry waited for more but apparently he wasn't getting anything else. It struck him that he knew about as much about John as John knew about him.

"Okay," Harry replied, not really thinking about it for a moment. But then he thought about night before, when he had freaked out and his first thought was to go to John. Rubbing his ribs absentmindedly, he also wondered what he would've done if John hadn't been there after Uncle Vernon had lost it on him. Was that why John was telling him? In case he needed him or something?

John took another step forward. "Listen," he started a bit awkwardly which made Harry stare. John wasn't awkward. It was a different side of him, for sure. John pulled a phone out of his pocket. "Take this." He handed it over and Harry turned it over in his hands before looking back up. "My number's in there," John continued, waving his own phone.

Harry looked at him, amused. "Just in case, huh? And you're going to, what? Rush to my rescue?" He didn't need protection from Vernon Dursley and just the idea was amusing, made funnier only by the idea of John being his rescuer.

"No," John answered very simply. "But take it anyway."

Harry slipped the phone into his pocket. "Thanks," he muttered for lack of things to say. They looked at each other for a few moments. "Have fun I guess," Harry offered. "Doing whatever it is you're doing."

John smirked. "Oh, I plan to." Somehow that wasn't very reassuring. "I'll see you in a few days," John told him. Harry nodded and watched as he left. That was awkward. It struck Harry that just the fact that they didn't know how to say bye to each other said something about their relationship, for lack of better words. Was this what was meant by the term 'friends with benefits'? But Harry would know how to say bye to a friend. Or not. That was Hermione's thing really.

Harry was heading back upstairs when he was stopped by his cousin. "What was that about?" Dudley asked.

"That?" Harry asked, almost uninterestedly. "He's going to be gone for a few days. He was just letting me know."

"Why?" Dudley asked, making a face.

"I guess that's what you do with someone your friendly with," Harry shrugged.

Dudley nodded but he looked suspicious. "So if you and dad have another fight he's not going to be around?"

Harry, who had been turning again to go back upstairs, stopped in his tracks. He faced Dudley again. "What?"

It was Dudley's turn to shrug. "You went over there the last time you and dad fought." He didn't say anything else so Harry figured he didn't know. But still…was he watching him?

"You keeping an eye on me for your dad?" Harry asked, taking a step forward Dudley with a glare.

Dudley swallowed a little nervously but looked surprised. "No, I was going to check on you but…"

Harry stared at him. "What's with you? First you warn me that your friends want to mess with me and now you're checking on me. Something's up."

Dudley shook his head very quickly. "Nothing's up. You're my cousin."

Harry sent him a look. "Obviously that never meant anything before. You spent most our lives trying to beat me up."

"Maybe I grew up," Dudley said before backing away. "I'm going to finish watching my show." Harry waited for him to disappear around the corner into the living room before heading to his own room. That was weird. He didn't know what to make of it.

With a sigh, he threw himself on his bed. He glanced over at Hedwig who was watching him. "I don't get it, Hedwig," he told her. She turned to clean her feathers. Some help.

Harry turned his eyes to the ceiling. What a weird ten minutes, he decided. As he laid there he slowly became fidgety. He was bored. He had gotten used to having something to do here. But John left so it was back to normal on Privet Drive. If John had stayed what would they be doing right now? Maybe a repeat performance of the night before. He couldn't explain what John's blowjob had been like. Probably the best feeling in the world. John had to have done that before. Did he expect the same from Harry? But John knew this was new for Harry. The most experience Harry had was some heated make-out sessions with Ginny, but they had never gotten close to below the belt. There was only so much they could get up to in secluded areas of the castle that didn't make Harry feel bad for doing so.

Ginny. Harry hadn't thought about her for a while which was weird. He had broken up with her to protect her, fully expecting that if he survived the war they'd pick it back up again, but now he wasn't so sure. Harry had practically forgotten about her, his mind on John when it wasn't on the war. But maybe that was his body talking. John did things with his mouth that…well that weren't easy to forget, Harry supposed. This was physical. Not that it really mattered. In just under two months Harry was going to leave and he would never see John again.

Harry shifted, getting more comfortable. Under two months left. That meant he was going to ignore Ginny, ignore the real world. He was going to have some fun now because this could be the last chance he had. The war was waiting. Voldemort was waiting.

**PAGE BREAK**

John had staked out Beast's hotel that morning. He had walked to Parliament; chances were he would walk back. John had settled himself half in the shadows of a building just over a block from the hotel. He wore a ripped pair of jeans and dirty t-shirt, face smudged with dirt. Beast was a do-gooder; he'd pull at the mutant's heart-strings.

The sun had just set when John spotted Beast down the block. People gave the furry blue man a wide berth as he passed, some faces reflecting fear, some disgust, and some just plain curiosity. John gave Beast credit for ignoring them. John turned to look at the other passers-by. His eyes landed on an impeccably dressed business man. Perfect. Holding back a smirk, John stood.

"Sir, can you spare some money?" John asked, slipping into his native Australian accent (as far as the X-Men knew, St. John was American and he didn't think the ever loyal Bobby would've said anything) and trying to look innocent. The man ignored him. John stepped in front of him. "I haven't eaten in days…please."

The business man's face showed his disgust. "Get out of my way."

"Please," John asked again, adding some desperation to his tone.

"You want money? Get a job," the man continued. Beast was getting closer. John got into position and reached out for the man, but the man shoved past him. John let himself fall into the passing Beast.

"Show some compassion, man," Beast said to the man, steadying John. The man only sneered at the two of them and continued on.

John faced him. He began speaking very quickly. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. I won't—"

Beast held up a hand to stop him. "Say no more."

John suddenly stopped speaking, looking to the ground. He could feel Beast's eyes taking him in with something like pity. John held back a smirk. Good guys were so easy to play.

"Are you hungry, my boy?" Beast asked in his growl of a voice. It was like a Wolverine-Xavier mash up. John looked up hopefully, but didn't say anything. "Come with me to my hotel. We'll get you cleaned up and get a meal in you."

John let his eyes go wide. "I don't do stuff like that," he said, taking a quick step back.

Beast held up his hands, trying to show that he was harmless. John jumped for good effect. "Calm down. I won't touch you. I just want to help you."

John stared at him, trying to seem suspicious but he couldn't help think how easy this was. The man was too trusting. Definitely one of Xavier's fools. John finally nodded cautiously. As he followed Beast back to the hotel, he couldn't help think that Mystique had nothing on him. It helped that John had played this game before, admittedly for some food and a bit of cash, not some secret document. This felt so much better. Pyro was back.

**PAGE BREAK**

"You look pleased," Mystique said, looking up from her computer. Erik was standing over her with a smug smile. "What is it?"

"Making any progress?" he asked. Mystique narrowed her eyes at his tone.

"No," she admitted when he didn't say anything else. "There's nothing on his system," she admitted. She had spent all day working on the stuff she hacked off of Beast's computer. To no avail apparently.

"Check your email," Erik told her. "I believe you will find all that we need there." Mystique sent him a surprised look before doing as he said. She found a new message from one of the anonymous addresses they often used. She opened the file to find snapshot after snapshot. Enlarging the pictures, she realized that these were the documents they had been looking for. It seemed to outline some deal the X-Men had made with the American government, but she didn't need to read it now.

Mystique looked up at Erik. "Did Pyro get this?" she asked.

"Yes," he responded. "Just the mission he needed. Such potential that boy."

"How did he get it?" she asked, a little put-out this time.

"I believe he posed as a hungry homeless boy," Erik answered, taking a seat. "Exactly the act that would work on one of Charles' X-Men."

"That was a huge risk," Mystique said, eyes growing hard. "What if Beast had recognized him?"

"They have never met, my dear," Erik assured.

"The X-Men could've shown him a picture or something," she said, standing. "What if this is a trap?"

"You know as well as I do that Charles does not play those types of games," Erik leveled her with a look. "And the X-Men wouldn't expect Pyro to be used for these types of missions. I have you after all."

Mystique sighed, seeing his point. Charles was not one for traps. He would want to win fair and square against people he cared about. His goal had never been to take out the Brotherhood. She supposed he still hoped that Erik and she would see the error in their ways.

"Is there a reason you left me out of this?" she asked finally.

"Not particularly," Erik said. "Shall we look over these documents?" He gestured towards the computer. With another sigh, Mystique sat back down and they looked over the documents together. It was apparently an outline legalizing the X-Men's self-appointed goal to keep the peace (more often by betraying their own, Mystique thought bitterly), pointing to Beast as the go between for Charles and the government. Nothing new except for the government's official agreement to it.

"Charles has really lost his way," Erik said as they finished reading, disappointment clearly in his voice.

"Perhaps," Mystique offered. "But by agreeing to interfere in mutant-mutant or human-mutant conflicts, they are better able to protect mutants."

"Or better able to fight against their own kind," he stood. "It will be just like Alcatraz. The X-Men will stand between the humans and their own. They will turn their powers against us just as they did then."

"We don't know that will always be the case," Mystique interjected, though she didn't particularly agree with her own statement. Sure the X-Men had helped them stop Stryker from taking out the world's mutants, but more often than not the X-Men fought against the Brotherhood, not the humans.

"We will see," Erik replied, unimpressed by her unfelt argument. He tried to remain in control but he was obviously very bothered by the whole deal. Mystique would never understand his relationship with Charles. When Mystique had left, she cut her ties, especially emotionally. She wouldn't be able to do her job otherwise. But Erik had never done that. It tore at him, she knew, but it also was what made it possible for him to betray just about anyone for the cause, herself included.

"Did you pay attention to the role being assigned to Iceman?" Mystique asked, deciding to move on instead of broaching the Charles subject.

"Not a surprise," Erik replied. "As disgusting as it is."

Mystique sneered. "Yes. The human majority should certainly be able to relate to him, if other mutants can't. A white, all-American boy playing the poster boy of the X-Men and, as such, mutant-kind. Pyro will love that." The last she had seen Iceman, he was a seventeen year old boy who seemed to show an unwillingness to use his own powers. Odd that he was Pyro's best friend. Though it seemed as if he had come a long way. Pyro still had scars from his defeat by Iceman on Alcatraz. Now the boy was showing the world he was a mutant. For the greater good, it appeared.

"The more Pyro hates that boy, the better off we are," Erik nodded. "That's one good thing that will come from this."

Mystique snorted. "Pyro doesn't hate Iceman. He just thinks he does."

"Well let's encourage that, shall we?" Erik responded.

**PAGE BREAK**

The last time John had scaled the wall of a building, he was climbing back into his room at Xavier's after missing curfew. Though he said he wouldn't cover for him, Bobby had left the window open for him and piled a bunch of pillows under the blankets on John's bed. The next morning Bobby had glared at him as if it was his fault Bobby decided to break the rules.

This time, the window was open and the guy of interest was already awake. Harry whirled around, pointing what seemed to be a stick at him. His eyes landed on John and he quickly shoved the stick back into his back pocket.

"What were you going to do with that?" John asked, amused, but making sure to keep his voice quiet. What a thing to keep in your back pocket.

He half expected Harry to go off on him for being there like he had two days before, but Harry only shrugged. "It's pointy," he said just as quietly, almost like a suggestion. "It could take an intruder's eye out, I'm sure."

"I'm sure," John agreed with a smirk.

Harry peered at him. "I thought you'd be gone longer."

"Me too," John admitted. In fact, he had planned to stay the day in London after he had completed his mission, but had found that he didn't particularly feel like it when it came down to it.

"So what are you doing here?" Harry asked, shoving his hands into his pockets.

"Making sure you're alive," John said with another smirk. Harry didn't look impressed so John pushed himself off the window ledge and towards him. "Or maybe I'm looking to get off." John was on a high after the active mission and all he wanted to do at the moment was add to that high.

Harry studied him for a moment from their position, only inches away from each other. He tilted his head and a mischievous smile appeared on his face. John couldn't help but smile when he saw it, wanting nothing more than to kiss him but holding himself back. "Show me what to do," Harry said slowly. "And I'll be happy to help."

John's smile grew into a wicked grin. Forget going slow. He was Pyro; he didn't do slow. And Harry was game for just about anything. "Tell you what," John said, getting into Harry's personal space. He put his lips to Harry's ear. "I'll demonstrate. If you're quiet." And he unbuttoned Harry's jeans just enough to fit his hand in.

"Fuck, John," Harry hissed.

"Maybe eventually," John grinned, kissing him. It was nice to be Pyro but, for the first time in a long time, it was nice to be John, too.

A.N. So I was listening to one of my Matchbox 20 cds and came to a conclusion. "Downfall" from _More Than You Think You Are_ could definitely be the very dramatic theme song for my Pyro/Harry stories.


	7. Cons and Confrontation

_The Boy Next Door_

Summary: After the Cure fades away, Magneto needs to re-build his Brotherhood. He receives a tip that a powerful young mutant lives on Privet Drive. Posing as a family, Magneto, Mystique, and Pyro search for the mutant, becoming convinced that the boy next door, the apparently troubled Harry Potter is the mutant they're looking for.

Pairing: Slash. Harry/Pyro

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or the X-Men. J.K. Rowling, Marvel, and others have that honor.

Spoilers: HP 1-6. AU for summer of HP7. X1-3, First Class.

Warnings: Slash (not too explicit). Strong Language. Adult Concepts. Sexual Content. Violence/Abuse.

A.N. I apologize for the very very long wait. After a busy couple of weeks I was struck with complete writer's block. Unfortunately, I think that reads here, but at least I got something out! Anyway, I want to thank all my readers and reviewers. Also, on an unrelated note: latest Nikita episode focused on Aaron Stanford's character. Hottest nerd on television: .com/la-femme-nikita/nikita-2-20-shadow-walker-images/13917?pid=8477

**Chapter 7: Cons and Confrontation**

"Where's Pyro?" Magneto asked from where he was needlessly reviewing Beast's documents for the—well Mystique hadn't bothered counting how many times he had reviewed those documents. Just a lot.

"With our neighbor, I suppose," Mystique replied. "That's where he tends to be these days."

Magneto acknowledged her response but seemed distracted. "For all the time he spends with that boy, he does not seem to be getting any information."

Mystique shrugged. "Either the kid plays it really close to the chest or he's not our mutant." She was really beginning to suspect the latter. He would've shown some sort of sign by now. Unless he had and Pyro was protecting him. But what would Pyro think he would be protecting him from? Would Pyro even bother to protect anyone in the first place? To think, there was a time when Pyro's motives were straightforward and his actions easily predictable. How much longer could she ignore his loss of dedication to the mission?

"Perhaps," Magneto agreed, but he didn't let her in on which he was agreeing with. "One must admire Pyro's work ethic." That didn't sound quite so convincing. He was beginning to suspect. What, Mystique wasn't sure. "Anyhow, I think we should re-evaluate where we stand, other possibilities." Magneto's face spread into a grin. "My dear, how would you like to host a neighborhood barbecue?"

Not very much, Mystique decided but there was work to be done.

**PAGE BREAK**

John looked around the crowded yard for a decent place to smoke a cigarette. He had been ordered not to disappear but he needed a cigarette in the worst way. The whole first floor of the house and the yard were crowded with laughing neighbors. Humans, John thought darkly. Finally, he spotted a fairly empty space in the back corner of the yard, where, to John's luck, Harry sat unhappily. Which was perhaps why the area was fairly empty. No one wanted to be near him. He grabbed a beer from a nearby cooler before heading over.

"Useful, aren't you," John commented as he cracked open the beer and perched himself on the fence. Harry looked up at him from where he was sitting on the ground. "Here hold this," John handed him the beer and pulled out his cigarettes. He lit one and motioned for the beer.

Harry made a face. "This smells disgusting." He handed the beer back very willingly. "And what am I useful for?"

"Clearing the crowd, you know," John took a drag.

"So you can smoke. Right," Harry nodded, amusement clear on his face. "I always knew me being some sort of social pariah would work out for someone."

John shrugged, taking a sip from his beer, before laying it down near his feet. He gazed around the yard at the neighbors. Magneto and Mystique had insisted that they get as many teenagers around as possible. They figured teenagers were the most likely candidates. If they managed to recruit this mutant, he/she would be the youngest recruit since John, who was still, annoyingly enough, always the youngest one in the room at Brotherhood events. It made it hard to gain respect, that was, of course, until he flashed a flame.

John continued to look around the yard until he spotted Harry's cousin and his friends. He glanced back at Harry who was looking off somewhere. Following his eyes, John spotted Dursley across the yard.

"Is it a problem, me sitting with you?" John asked, watching as the fat man turned sort of pink either from his obnoxious chuckle or the beer.

"I don't care." John wasn't sure if he was lying or not. "Besides, I can always say I was getting odd looks for being some creepy loner."

John smirked. "Creepy loner?" Harry shrugged. Petunia Dursley's eyes landed on them and she maneuvered her husband so that he was no longer facing them. Damage control? Or was she protecting her nephew?

"Any chance of us disappearing?" Harry asked, almost hopefully.

John took another drink from his beer. "Unfortunately no. Been told not to."

Harry looked at him oddly. "Isn't that against the whole bad boy thing you have going for you. Doing something just because you were told."

John shrugged. "I never said I had the whole bad boy thing going for me."

"Actually you did," Harry told him. "About the time you were attempting to be too noble to fool around with me."

"Bad guy," John corrected. "Not bad boy."

"Same difference."

"If you say so," John glanced over at him in amusement.

Harry sighed, looking over the yard again. "Well," he said as he stood. "Just because you do as you're told doesn't mean I have to. I'm out of here."

"See you later," John replied, watching the smoke from his cigarette. If he couldn't leave, Harry might as well get the chance. Plus, being around Harry lost its appeal when too many people were around for them to do anything. And John wasn't exactly one for random conversation.

However, Harry's departure was quickly interrupted by Harry's cousin and his gang of sorts. "Potter, it's been a long time," said the thinnest of Dudley's group. John's eyes traveled to Dudley who reluctantly stood off to the side.

Harry, meanwhile, had stiffened ever so slightly. "Not long enough really," Harry said, jaw tense.

Piers' face broke out into a grin. "Don't be that way, Potter. We had loads of fun together when we were kids. Don't you remember?" The others in the group began to chuckle. John evaluated the group. It had been a long time since he had to deal with bullies (pre-Mansion even), especially everyday bullies. What was the end game here, in front of a yard-full of people? John put his cigarette out. He wasn't known for always being in control.

"Are you trying to be intimidating?" Harry asked, head tilting. The kid actually cracked his knuckles. Did he learn how to be 'tough' from terrible movies, or something? Harry, meanwhile, smirked at the motion, maybe thinking the same thing. "Right, it's been great but I was leaving."

But when Harry went to leave, Piers grabbed his arm. Before Harry could do anything, John spoke up. "Back off man," he told Piers, taking a sip of his beer.

Both Piers and Harry stared at him. Harry recovered first, shaking his arm free with a glare. "What's it to you?" one of the other wanna-be thugs sneered. John resisted rolling his eyes.

"You're ruining my beer," John told him. "Go away."

"But we don't feel like it, do we?" Piers responded, looking around at his gang. John couldn't help the grin that spread on his face. He had just made himself the target of a bunch of teenaged bullies. They really had no idea who they were messing with. The shameful thing was, John couldn't really let them know.

"Leave him alone, Piers," Harry told him. John glanced at him in amusement. Was he protecting him or something? No, from the look on Harry's face, he was just fed up. John had a feeling that all this seemed just as ridiculous to Harry as it did to him. Was it just because of his experiences with his uncle, or something else? That school for criminals he apparently went to, maybe.

Piers began to laugh and the others followed. Dudley looked unhappy in the background. It was clear he had managed to lose his control over the group. "Aw, find yourself a boyfriend, Potter?" That was a bit of a jump, really. Someone that stupid really shouldn't have been able to figure out their involvement.

"What are you five?" Harry snapped. "You think I'm a homophobic enough for that to set me off?" Of course, these were normal teenage boys: being gay was some sort of insult. It had been a long time since John had dealt with this stupid level of drama. He was too old for this. Sure, he wasn't long out of his teenage years himself, but stuff like this seemed like such a long time ago.

"Oh, but how about that other boyfriend of yours?" Piers asked grinning. He turned towards Dudley. "What was the name he used to yell out in his sleep?"

"I don't remember," Dudley replied, obviously trying to play off his discomfort. "We were fifteen. How am I supposed to remember that?"

"Started with a 'S' didn't it?" one of the other boys asked. John looked to Harry. He was very clear about this being his first time fooling around with a guy. What were they talking about? Harry, however, wasn't looking at him. By the increased tension in his body, he seemed to be getting angrier. Curiously, Dudley's eyes flashed nervously towards Harry. John sat up a little straighter, watching Harry carefully now. Just one sign that he was a mutant…

"Don't be an idiot," Harry finally snapped at the other boy. "They're called nightmares, not some fucking wet dream. And on that note, grow up." Harry seemed about to leave but he turned back around, eyes only on Piers. "And as refreshing as it is that you're finally picking on someone your own age, and leaving that Mark Evans kid alone, try coming up to me alone sometime." Did it just get a little windier or was John imagining things?

"Is that a threat?" Piers asked, stepping into Harry's space, smirk clear on his face. Harry was outnumbered and outsized by ever guy in that gang. If Harry pulled out some mutant power to win…

"Alright, that's enough," John said, standing and grabbing Harry by the arm. While he didn't jerk his arm away, Harry offered him a glare. "You don't want to do this here." John eyed where the elder Dursley stood. Thankfully, Harry got the message. And so apparently did Dudley.

"Piers, come on, let's go," Dudley said, he too stepping in. He looked behind him at the rest of the group. "There are too many people around. Let's go." The other seemed to be with him this time. Perhaps noticing this, Piers gave in.

"I'll see you around," Piers told Harry, eyes flashing to John with a sneer. John raised his eyebrows, unimpressed.

When they had left, Harry jerked his arm out of John's grasp, he, too leaving. With a sigh, John looked around the yard. Teenage drama. He could blame himself for getting involved with someone younger than him but even Harry had seemed over the drama. And unimpressed by a group of larger guys threatening him. Then there was that wind…had he imagined that?

**PAGE BREAK**

Harry had only been back at Number Four for a few minutes before there was a knock on the kitchen door. He paused, wondering if was Piers. No, he'd never have the guts to actually face Harry on his own. So Harry went to answer the door, somewhat surprised to find John on the other side of it.

"What are you doing here?" Harry asked.

"Not following orders," John replied. It sounded odd worded like that, as if he was following some sort of command from his general not his grandfather. "Now are you going to let me in or risk your uncle spotting me?"

Harry stepped aside to let him in. He shut the door behind John, still not saying anything. What was there to say? Harry was still angry, but not at John. And if there was one thing he knew about himself, it was that he took his anger out on the nearest target.

"So do you pretend it's your first time with every guy you meet?" John asked, leaning against the counter. Harry opened his mouth to respond but a grin suddenly spread across John's face.

Harry returned it ever so slightly. "For a moment there I didn't think you were joking."

Still grinning, John looked towards the stairs. "So you wanna bring this to the bedroom? It's either that or talk or something weird like that."

Harry snorted. "I see your point," he said. But as appealing as sneaking away to fool around had seemed before, now he just felt kind of tired.

"Yet you make no motion to lead the way," John pointed out. He paused. "Do you actually want to talk?"

And Harry laughed because John actually sounded so worried that that was an actual possibility. John's eyebrows rose in response. "Sorry," Harry managed to stop laughing but the grin was still there. "You just seem frightened by the very idea." Then a thought struck him. "Have you really never been in a relationship?" John made a face and the grin fell back onto Harry's face. "You're twenty years old and have never had a girlfriend? Or boyfriend, I guess."

"Doubt I missed anything," John replied dryly. "I mean what's the point? You get invested in someone, develop feelings or some shit and then it ends. You're better off just finding someone to fuck."

Harry looked at him. This wasn't a relationship, it couldn't be. He was leaving soon. But it struck him as odd that whatever this was had to be the closest thing that John had ever gotten to a relationship. And the way he talked about relationships? John had to have a lot of demons. And definitely people issues.

"Maybe it's still worth it in the end," Harry said. John sent him an odd look. "Caring I mean. Having someone that cares about you. It's a good thing."

John didn't look convinced. In fact, he looked a little annoyed. "Are we really going to do this talking thing?" he asked.

"You didn't have to follow me. You can do anything you want: like leave." But Harry wasn't annoyed. He really didn't know what he was because for a second he thought he was feeling sorry for John.

"Good point," John responded, still sounding a bit irritated. Then he sighed. "Don't really feel like leaving though." Harry held back a smile. Now John was the one sounding like a kid.

It struck him that John really didn't know what he wanted. When they had first met, John seemed to be cool and confident. He knew what he wanted and took it. But, no. John denied wanting Harry and when he did realize it, he wouldn't act on it. He didn't do relationships but he was wasting his time with a guy who didn't know what he was doing. Sure Harry was learning quickly but they still hadn't had sex yet and John was sticking around while he could be finding real hook-ups. So what did John want?

"So the talking thing, huh?" John continued almost reluctantly when Harry didn't say anything, lost in his own thoughts. "Who's the guy whose name starts with an 'S'?"

He had to ask that question. "Just some guy," Harry responded.

"Who makes an appearance in your nightmares," John said, with a roll of the eyes.

"You know, you're right," Harry followed uncomfortably. "Let's just not talk."

But John was studying him now. "No, now I wanna know. Why do you have nightmares about this guy?"

"They're not about him," Harry replied reluctantly. "He's just in them. Or he was. Still is sometimes, I guess." He really didn't want to talk about this. It was made harder by the fact that he didn't know how to explain without making himself seem suspicious. John just watched him, waiting for him to say something. "Fine his name was Cedric."

"Was?" John prompted.

"He died," Harry snapped. "And I don't want to talk about it."

John didn't say anything for a moment. Then: "Man, how many people have you known have fucking died?"

And it was so ridiculously tactless that Harry couldn't help it. He laughed. "I can't—I can't believe you just said that." Clearly, John hadn't been trying to be funny because he just stared. "Seriously, who asks that?"

"Well must people have like a dead grandmother or something, not…" John trailed off for a moment as if realizing that he may have ventured into an emotional topic.

"Two dead parents and a dead friend?" Harry filled in. He shrugged. "Well, I'm not most people." There was an awkward moment of silence during which John pulled out his lighter and flicked it a bit absentmindedly. He wasn't apologetic for being so tactless but he didn't act like he did nothing wrong. And amazingly it made Harry want to kiss him. Because John didn't quite get it and that had to mean something pretty sad about John's own life.

John watched him, a little on guard, as Harry went to him, still flicking that lighter. Harry placed his hand over the lighter, stopping the motion. John's eyebrows rose, almost challenging him. Without any hesitation, Harry pulled John into a kiss. John returned it, slipping his lighter back into his pocket before bringing his hand back out to pull Harry closer to him. Harry wanted to drive this kiss. John let him slip his tongue in but from there it was a battle, tongues fighting, bodies responding. And then Harry felt when it happened: John gave in. Harry grinned into the kiss as John made a sound at the back of his throat. He pushed John against the counter and John slipped his hand under Harry's shirt. John's hands were just beginning to wander when…

The kitchen door opened. "Oh, God, I'm—yeah." Harry and John tore apart before Dudley could say anything else. John grabbed Dudley before he could make it back out the door and Harry slammed the door shut, quickly glancing out the blinds. No sign of Aunt Petunia or, more importantly, Uncle Vernon. "Ow, stop manhandling me!"

"Quiet down before I really hurt you," John growled convincingly.

It didn't matter that Dudley was a lot bigger than John, or even that Dudley did boxing in school. He didn't stand a chance, even struggling, as the smaller guy dragged him up the stairs and threw him inside Harry's room. Harry closed the door behind him as he followed.

Dudley was doing an awful impression of a fish from his position sitting on Harry's bet, looking back and forth between Harry and John. His eyes finally stopped on Harry. "You're a-I mean you're—you're bent?"

John rolled his eyes. "No, completely straight men stick their tongue down my throat all the time."

Honestly, Harry didn't think it was the time for jokes. He glared at John, hoping he'd shut up. "Dudley, you can't tell anyone what you just saw," he tried. Dudley had been nice to him lately, maybe he could get to his cousin with kindness. Otherwise, he was going to have to throw John out and threaten Dudley with magic. That should do it but it would also make John incredibly suspicious.

"I can't believe you're actually…I mean Piers was—and I was—only picking on you about that guy and…" Dudley stared at Harry. "My dad will _kill_ you if he finds out."

"That's why you can't tell anyone, Dudley," Harry insisted. "Absolutely no one. I know we don't like each other, but—"

"I like you," Dudley interrupted. It was Harry's turn to stare.

"Okay," Harry said slowly. "That's new."

"You saved my life," Dudley continued quite earnestly.

"Shut up, Dudley," Harry growled, avoiding John's curious look. He looked pointedly at his cousin.

"Oh," Dudley said. Harry winced. His cousin was too stupid to be inconspicuous. How could he trust him not to say anything? Dudley looked at John, before quickly looking away nervously. Harry glanced at John who was staring Dudley down, arms crossed. Apparently, Dudley found him intimidating. Interesting. "I'm not going to tell anyone," Dudley said mostly to his shoes.

"Why?" John asked, looking at Dudley distastefully. There was a certain amount of disgust in his expression that Harry wasn't sure Dudley deserved for how much John knew about him.

Dudley glanced back at John, a little more determinedly. "You mean besides the fact that you'd probably hurt me?" Apparently Dudley wasn't used to people being able to physically overpower him. Harry still wasn't sure how John had managed that. Dudley was a lot bigger. "And that he," Dudley nodded towards Harry, "could probably do the same?"

John's eyebrows rose again at the statement but he didn't turn away from Dudley. "Yeah, besides that."

"Because," again Dudley seemed quite earnest, "my dad will kill him. And I don't really want that."

Harry's eyebrows furrowed. "Thanks, I guess."

"Can I go now?" Dudley asked, frustrated. Harry stepped away from the door and watched as his cousin actually ran out of the room.

"You saved his life?" John asked curiously.

"He's over-exaggerating," Harry claimed, sighing and running a hand through his hair. "That could've been my aunt and uncle."

John stepped towards Harry. "Don't tell me a little danger will scare you off."

Harry snorted. "Please, danger's never scared me off of anything. It's not going to start now."

John grinned. "Good." He moved in towards Harry. He brought his lips towards Harry's but didn't kiss him. "Because we were in the middle of something." And, really, with the way John was looking at him, it wasn't hard to forget about Dudley. There was no fight this time. Harry drove the kiss and pulled John down onto the bed.

Somehow, they ended up with John straddling him. He pulled John's shirt off, breaking the kiss to do so. "How do we do this?" he asked.

John threw his shirt off, kissing Harry again. "Do what?" he asked as he moved his mouth for Harry's neck.

"Sex," Harry managed to get out, a little frustrated that he had to spell it out, especially as John's work on his neck was rather distracting.

"Not yet," John told him.

"Wh-why?" Harry breathed out as John pulled him away. Harry glared. John couldn't be trying to protect him, could he?

"Because," John got off Harry and pulled on his shirt. Harry sat up quickly. Where was he going? "You're aunt and uncle just got home. And when we do this, it ain't going to be quiet."

Sure enough, Harry heard his uncle's tell-tale heavy steps coming up the stairs. Harry froze. "Hey, dad, can you help me with something?" came Dudley's frantic voice from downstairs. His uncle's steps retreated back down the steps. Harry let out a sigh of relief.

"How did you know?" Harry asked quietly.

"Heard them come in," John shrugged, opening Harry's window.

"How could you hear anything while we were…" Harry trailed off not sure how to word it. He was pretty sure it would've taken someone actually coming into the room for him to notice anything at that point.

John smirked at him. "Glad you were distracted."

"You didn't answer my question," Harry said, getting up towards the window as John climbed out.

But John wasn't going to. He rolled his eyes and skillfully climbed down the house. How often did that guy sneak in and out of bedrooms?

**PAGE BREAK**

"Pyro," Magneto barked as soon as Pyro entered the house. Mystique eyed him in amusement. His lips were swollen. Someone was having fun. "Where have you been?"

"With Harry," Pyro answered, sitting at the empty chair. At least the boy wasn't completely stupid. It wouldn't do to brush Magneto off after ignoring direct orders. Was it time to let Magneto in on Pyro's discretions?

"I thought I told you, under no circumstances were you to leave," Magneto glared. "Today was about other suspects, not that boy. You have a job to do, Pyro. Now is not the time to start acting like a child."

"I made a judgment call."

"What do you mean?" Mystique asked, her eyes narrowing. How was he getting himself out of this?

"Well, we might not be barking up the wrong tree after all," Pyro answered, cockily leaning back in his chair, clearly waiting for them to ask before continuing.

"The Potter boy?" Magneto prompted.

"Got into a little confrontation with his cousin's friends," Pyro told them. "He got angry and when he got angry it got a little windier. It could be a coincidence," Pyro said with a shrug, "but he's hiding something. There's something he and his cousin know that he doesn't want me to know."

Pyro stood, not waiting to be dismissed. He grabbed one of the left-over beers before turning to face them. "Don't question my commitment to the cause," Pyro eyed Magneto. "I'm as committed as ever. You told me to con the kid. Well, I'm conning him. Let me do my job."

Mystique watched him leave curiously. He sounded convincing. Was his relationship with the boy part of the con? She had been questioning his commitment for a while now but she couldn't deny that Pyro was almost as good at becoming someone else as she was. Pyro had never strayed from the cause before. No, she wouldn't tell Magneto. She'd let Pyro play his hand.

A.N. So I'm very much American and I try to avoid any non-American slang in case I screw it up but I couldn't help slipping in 'bent' after watching Matchbox 20's Storytellers and Rob Thomas talking about their song 'Bent' and having giant posters across the UK reading "Matchbox 20: Bent." It was too funny so the word just stuck in my head for this.


	8. When it Rains

Summary: After the Cure fades away, Magneto needs to re-build his Brotherhood. He receives a tip that a powerful young mutant lives on Privet Drive. Posing as a family, Magneto, Mystique, and Pyro search for the mutant, becoming convinced that the boy next door, the apparently troubled Harry Potter is the mutant they're looking for.

Pairing: Slash. Harry/Pyro

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or the X-Men. J.K. Rowling, Marvel, and others have that honor.

Spoilers: HP 1-6. AU for summer of HP7. X1-3, First Class.

Warnings: Slash (not too explicit). Strong Language. Adult Concepts. Sexual Content. Violence/Abuse.

A.N. So I was trying to get this (important) chapter out before it was really crunch time in terms of school and I had no time whatsoever to write this. Obviously I failed because it's been weeks and weeks again. Then of course my computer died. But it's back now and I'm going to try to get two chapters out before I go away for work next week. And a reminder, I don't do sex scenes! It's not what's important in the story and I can't manage them well enough to be worth it.

Chapter 8: When It Rains

Harry hung out in the hallway listening to the news while still out of his uncle's way. So far nothing of interest had appeared on the evening news. His uncle, meanwhile, was particularly belligerent today, acting like every news item was a personal affront to him.

"Who cares about their jobs? I'm tired of this Petunia. So these low level employees are getting fired. How about us? The Board of Directors wants to take my job away." Uncle Vernon took another swig of his drink. "Have you seen the boy today?"

Harry paused, listening carefully. "He did the gardening today," Aunt Petunia responded carefully.

"He staying away from that Horton kid?" his uncle growled.

"Yes." That was a lie. She had seen Harry with John at the Horton's barbecue that past weekend.

"Good. I don't need any of his funny business right now." He heard the clinking of a bottle. "Petunia, get me another drink."

Harry decided it was a good time to leave. He quickly made his way upstairs before his aunt could round the corner. Hedwig was gone again, probably hunting, Harry noticed as he sat himself at the window. What he had overheard at least explained things. Sure Harry had come back to Privet Drive with a less stellar attitude than usual but there had been something off about his uncle all summer. When his uncle had cracked Harry's ribs he had been drunk and Harry remembered that weird look in his eyes when he had sprained Harry's wrist. His uncle must've been drunk then, too. And why? Work troubles. Harry just had been a useful outlet. It didn't sound like things were getting any better either. Harry was definitely staying out of his uncle's way for the rest of the summer.

Harry's eyes landed on a man loitering suspiciously on the corner. His body tensed and he focused through the dark night air to get a better look. A grin broke out on as his face as he recognized Remus Lupin. He sobered up a bit as he realized it could be an imposter. He grabbed his wand and snuck downstairs and outside. Approaching, Lupin carefully, he held his wand ready at his side. Lupin smiled as he approached.

"When was the first time we met?" Harry asked. Lupin's smile widened.

"On the train to Hogwarts your third year. I helped you out with a dementor." Lupin peered at him. "What creature was in the tank of my office the first time you visited me?"

"A _grindylow_," Harry answered. At least, he thought so. It was a long time ago. But Lupin nodded, holding out a hand to shake Harry's hand. Harry pocketed his wand and shook his hand.

"How are you, Harry?" Lupin asked.

"Fine. How about you?" Harry responded.

"Married, for one," Lupin answered.

Harry grinned. "Congratulations! Wow, you and Tonks!"

"Yes," Lupin returned his grin. "I'm sure Sirius would have some choice words for me for marrying his little cousin. Not sure if they would've been good or bad words though."

For once, it was nice to hear mention of Sirius, not heart-wrenching. "What are you doing here?" Harry changed the subject.

"Checking in," Lupin told him. "You seem fine. Grown again." Lupin commented, making Harry look at the ground in embarrassment. Wow, if he didn't know how to make Harry feel like a child. "I heard you have new neighbors." Lupin nodded behind Harry.

Harry turned to spot John outside smoking a cigarette. He turned back. "Yeah, the Hortons. They're nice enough. Well, John's nice. His grandfather and sister are a little weird." Harry paused. "Normal weird, not Death Eater weird."

"And you are sure?" Lupin asked.

"Is that why you're here? Checking on the new neighbors?"

"One of the reasons, yes," Lupin said carefully. "The watches have seen you quite a bit with-I think you called him John."

Harry froze for a moment. What exactly had they seen? He tried to remember whether they had kissed out in plain view. There was the once in John's yard but that was pretty blocked in. The first time, in the car maybe. But studying Remus, Harry realized he didn't mean much by his statement. So Harry answered simply: "Yes. Is that a problem?"

"No," Lupin quickly shook his head. "I'm not here to keep you from making friends, Harry. Just be careful. Remember—"

"Constant vigilance?" Harry inserted. Lupin laughed.

"That is one way of putting it, yes," Lupin checked his watch. "I need to head out. Now for the other reason I was here." He reached into one of his pockets, pulling out a few letters. "Letters from your friends."

Harry took them gratefully. He suddenly grew serious with the reminder of people from his world. "How is everything out there?"

Lupin's face grew solemn. "Difficult. But you can't worry about that now. Once you're back with us, then you can worry. Until then, all you need to concentrate on is keeping safe." Harry nodded reluctantly. "I will see you in three weeks when we come to pick you up," he told Harry as he prepared to leave.

"Three? I still have another five until my birthday," Harry furrowed his eyebrows.

"Need to keep the other side on their toes, don't we?" Lupin gave him one last smile before walking away. Harry sighed. Three weeks?

PAGE BREAK

John wondered who Harry was talking to. It appeared to be some man in his forties or so. It was difficult to tell so far away. The man handed Harry something and they continued talking for a little before the man began to leave. Harry stood there for a moment before heading towards John, sending the cursory glance towards Number Four to make sure they weren't being watched.

"Hey," Harry said a little tiredly. John eyed the papers in his hand.

"Dealing drugs? Didn't think you were the type," John commented.

Harry rolled his eyes. "They're just letters from some friends."

"Who was that man?" John asked.

Harry eyed him. "Anyone ever tell you that you're incredibly nosy."

"Actually, no, you would be the first." John took a drag from his cigarette. What he didn't tell Harry, of course, was that he had orders to be nosy. "So?" he prompted.

"A friend of the family," Harry finally told him. John quickly glanced behind Harry at Number Four, opening his mouth. "No not them," Harry beat him to it. "He was a friend of my father's."

"Who's back," John said as his eyes landed on the approaching man.

Harry quickly turned around, hand heading towards his back pocket and hovering. "Lupin, what—"

"Don't worry, nothing's wrong," the man—Lupin—said with a kind smile. John automatically distrusted him. He never trusted kind smiles. He learned to think of Xavier's as an exception but even his wasn't kind enough. John had meant nothing to him. "I forgot a letter," Lupin continued, handing an envelope made of some thick paper, which actually looked suspiciously like parchment. Lupin's eyes landed on John. He knew John was appraising him suspiciously. John put his cigarette out and flicked it aimlessly onto the ground.

"Remus Lupin," the man introduced himself, holding out a hand.

John eyed the hand for a few long moments. Lupin didn't react. Finally, John slowly held out his own hand to shake it, as shortly as possible. "Interesting name," John told him. "John Horton."

For a moment, John thought Lupin was going to say something more but he only turned back to Harry. He looked almost uninterested in John but the man's eyes had remained on him just a moment too long. "Stay out of trouble, Harry," Lupin told him. His tone was kind but he seemed legitimately worried.

"Don't I always?" Harry asked, trying his best to look innocent.

Lupin stared at Harry for a moment, quickly making Harry uncomfortable. After a few awkward moments, Lupin spoke up. "My apologies. You just…a memory just flashed through my head of your dad saying the same exact thing." His next smile was only partially forced. "Only slightly less convincing as you, may I add. Take care." He offered one last glance at John. "John."

John watched him go, Harry silent beside him. He glanced over at Harry to see him turning a letter over in his hands. "Who's it from."

"My ex-girlfriend," Harry commented, contemplating the letter.

John paused. This didn't really seem like a topic he wanted to broach. But John had always been a glutton for punishment and the silence was just too awkward. "Why is she writing you letters?"

"Why wouldn't she be?" Harry asked, looking up from his letter.

"Well, I've never personally had an ex-girlfriend but still, I think the 'ex' thing is self-explanatory," John said slowly. It seemed pretty obvious to him.

"It wasn't that type of break-up," Harry said, but the way he seemed to stare at the letter didn't communicate the same. John kind of wanted to take the letter from him if it was going to distract him so much. Harry looked at him for a moment. "I haven't thought about her for a while now." Harry pocketed his letters. "Never mind. It doesn't matter."

But it did seem to matter, though John couldn't imagine why. How many types of break-ups could there be? John decided not to push though. Did he really care about Harry's break-up with his girlfriend? No, he would continue following Magneto's orders while he was out of town and, while he was at it, have some fun with the orders too.

PAGE BREAK

Reading his friends' letters had been the strangest thing. It was like being pulled back into his life. Sure he had been scouting the all news sources for any sign of Voldemort or Death Eaters, but, in a way, Harry had forgotten that there was more to his life in the wizarding world than just Voldemort. And for the first time since the beginning of the summer, he really missed his friends. Especially since his worry over Ginny's letter was unneeded. It read just like Ron and Hermione's letters. No talk of feelings, just talking. It made him feel a little less guilty about not thinking about her, a pattern he intended to continue. He really didn't want to think about what she meant to him when he was fooling around with his neighbor. He just wanted to enjoy the meaningless without any grand scheme of things hanging over his head.

That was, at least, what he was thinking when he dug out today's newspaper out of the Dursley's trash. He tucked it under his arm and went to his room. Taking up his usual perch at the window sill, Harry flipped open the paper. He was getting good at this, navigating the muggle papers for suspicious deaths. So he was perhaps not focusing much as he flipped through the pages, looking for mysterious disappearances or unexplainable deaths. That was probably why he felt so jolted when he spotted something. The name 'Potter'.

Harry stared at the page for a moment before gearing up to read it. Once he was done, he looked up, staring at the window, for once seeing the glass and not the streets beyond the glass. The Potters. A family dead, a young child orphaned. No cause of death identifiable. His insides felt like ice. Voldemort had done this. This family that had his name. Voldemort had done it to get to him. This family was dead and the kid without parents only because they shared his name.

He chucked the newspaper at the window. Standing, he ran his hands roughly through his hair. He stopped very suddenly, closing his eyes, hands still in his hair. His eyes landed on the window again. It was late. The doors were already locked and his aunt and uncle asleep. But he'd seen John do this a few times.

Harry threw the window open and climbed out. He carefully found his footing but once he did, he quickly scaled down the wall. John's window would be easier to get to. The garage stood not too far from the window. That was probably why John had chosen that bedroom. Harry climbed the fence and, glancing to make sure no one was watching, he lifted himself up on the garage. He could just barely reach the window. Hauling himself, he managed to find a tentative perch to the window. John was on his bed, reading. Harry rapped lightly on the window.

John jumped ever so slightly, hand going towards his front pocket as he tended to do when he was startled though Harry couldn't imagine why. He stopped though when he spotted Harry.

"What are you doing here?" John asked, as he opened the window.

Harry didn't say anything. What could he say that John would be able to understand? So he kissed him with an intensity he had not tried before. John pulled away and Harry let him. He studied Harry for a moment, eyes dark. Harry didn't know what John was looking for or even if he found it, but it didn't matter. Next thing he knew, John was pulling him inside the room. Harry kissed him again and John managed to get the window shut even as Harry pulled him towards the bed.

His aim was off and Harry tripped onto the bed. Because of his tight grip, John tumbled on top of him. Their mouths clashed together as they fell. It hurt but Harry didn't care. He didn't care that this wasn't graceful, that he had never done this before. He pulled John's shirt over his head. Harry tried to re-initate the kiss but John was reaching for something in his bedside table. Condoms and a tube of something. John paused as he straddled over Harry.

"I swear to God if you ask me if I'm sure…" Harry trailed off, breathing out. He needed this. He needed John to make him forget like last time. He had wanted this for what felt like the whole summer and he was tired of John dodging it.

This time John kissed him, biting his lip and making him moan.

PAGE BREAK

John let him stay. A first for him. Harry had seemed to think about leaving but John had thrown the blanket over him before he could. John didn't have the words but he felt the kid—guy—needed him. Harry had fallen asleep pretty quickly so John, for once, was able to watch him uninterrupted. Harry certainly looked more at peace than he had when he showed up at John's window, face intense and pained. Something emotional, John was sure. And Harry had needed him, not his power but him. So he had performed.

It had been a while since John had slept with a virgin. There were a couple of awkward moments and Harry under any other circumstances would've probably stumbled but he had wanted this, needed it, and John couldn't remember when he was more turned on. So the virgin thing had meant shit. Then.

Now, John worried. He had never been much of a worrier but the next morning he was going to face a kid waking up after his first time. With a guy. Without whatever it was that was bothering him, would Harry freak out? John didn't want to care, figured he didn't have to. Only a month now before Harry would be gone. Unless he was the mutant they were looking for, of course. For the first time, he seriously considered what that meant now. If Harry was the mutant, would he come with them? Would John stay involved with him? How could he be Pyro and John at the same time? Could he do it? Could he do what was necessary in this war without being Pyro all the time? John knew it was impossible. John was weak; Pyro was strong. He had to stop things with Harry. He wouldn't be weak again. He wouldn't be John again. Harry made him John again and he hated it.

When he woke up the next morning, he was prepared to do what was necessary, but Harry was already gone. The side of the bed Harry had curled up on was not only empty, but cold. Somehow Harry had managed to sneak out without waking him. John supposed that made his job easier. He would cut ties. The next time Harry tried to speak with him, John would brush him off. He'd be the asshole he had always been; it shouldn't be too hard. Then again, it had been incredibly easy to be a better man around Harry. But that wasn't who he was. He had to concentrate on that.

Yawning, he made his way downstairs. He didn't acknowledge Mystique who he knew had to be in the kitchen as she was every morning. He needed his coffee. "You sounded like you had some fun last night," Mystique told him as he poured his needed caffeine.

John took a sip, turning to face her. And froze. Mystique wasn't alone.

"Hello, Pyro," Callisto grinned. "You aren't losing your touch, are you?"

"What the fuck are you doing here?" John asked, looking over to Mystique.

"I brought her," Magneto said from the door. John whirled to look at him. When had he gotten back? "As so far, you have yet to even confirm that Potter is our boy, it was time to get someone who could." Magneto eyed him. "I imagine if you spent more time doing your job instead of fooling around with the boy, we would've had our answer by now."

John managed to hide his surprise that Magneto knew what was up. Now that he thought about it, he wasn't being especially sneaky about it. "You told me to bond with him. Besides, you two haven't exactly done any better," John decided to point out instead. But this was his mission. Magneto was right. He had gotten distracted.

"I can help you there," Callisto inserted, looking cocky. She sent a pleased look at Magneto, the suck-up. "The boy that snuck out of Pyro's bedroom this morning wasn't a mutant." John's stomach turned. Was this bad news? Good news? Callisto turned to smile at John. "It seems you've wasted your time with that _Homo sapien_."

John forced a smirk on his face. "I don't know. I had fun."

Magneto glared at him. "Alright. Enough." The glare reminded John that he had failed. That Magneto had to break Callisto out of prison, what should've been an unnecessary risk, due to that failure. Magneto turned back to Callisto. "Callisto, you will lead Mystique to our mutant."

After they left, John turned to leave, to return to his room, but Magneto's voice stopped him. "Pyro, stay." John wanted to tell him that he didn't follow orders like a dog but he knew he was already in trouble. So he turned back and leant against the wall as he faced Magneto.

"I put up with your straying from the cause, hoping you were on to something," Magneto told him. "Instead you have wasted your time with that human. I hoped you would prove your dedication during this mission, but instead you have left me unimpressed. John." That shouldn't have hurt like it had. John didn't need this man's approval. He didn't.

John glared at Magneto. "I never wanted this mission to begin with. Get me back to the war and I'll show you my dedication. I'll burn whatever you want me to. I know my loyalties now." It was true. He had let himself get distracted. He had felt disillusioned with Magneto and distracted himself with someone that reminded him of his once best friend, who made him feel like John again. "And don't call me John. It's Pyro."

PAGE BREAK

Harry had snuck out of John's bedroom as the sun came up. He had woken up, sore not so surprisingly but also calm, at peace. John looked incredibly young while asleep. He didn't look so much older than Harry. Harry had smiled as John shifted in his sleep, mumbling something about ice. This was nice. It would be great to wake up like this every morning.

But Harry's face fell. That wouldn't be possible. He had three more weeks before he left. Not five. Three more weeks until he was back in the war. Voldemort was already calling him out. Harry's stomach sank. John had helped him forget. But that was selfish. Harry couldn't afford to forget. Three weeks wasn't a long time. He should've been spending this summer reading up on spells, getting prepared for the Horcrux hunt. But instead he had allowed himself to get distracted. It was selfish. People were dying and he was getting laid.

So Harry had snuck out of the window, wincing as he climbed down the garage. He made his way to the playground where he could think. Six Horcruxes. The diary, the ring, the locket, the cup, the snake, something of Ravenclaw's or Gryffindor's. The diary, the ring, the locket, the cup, the snake, something of Ravenclaw's or Gryffindor's.

He had been sitting in the playground for a couple of hours when he heard shouts. His hand immediately went for his back pocket but he quickly spotted the commotion. Dudley's gang—minus Dudley, it appeared—was shoving around some kid. Harry squinted his eyes. It looked like the Evans' kid again. It really wasn't any of his business, but he found himself jogging over to the group. And it wasn't just his saving people thing, either. He was ready for a fight.

"Mutie freak!" Piers shouted as he kicked the kid.

"When are you lot finally going to pick on someone your own size?" Harry asked, as he got close. He inserted himself between Mark Evans and the gang, going face to face with Piers.

"Playing hero, Potter?" Piers sneered.

Harry found his choice of words amusing but the others didn't seem to share the joke. "Does that make you guys the villains? Trust me, you're not scary enough. Maybe you should find different work."

But there were four of them and Harry couldn't use magic. This was incredibly stupid. "Like you could take any one of us," one of the guys replied.

"Let's test that theory," Harry offered with a grin, keeping an eye on all of them. "Mark, go home."

"But—"

"Go, Mark."

"Making friends with mutants now, Potter?" Piers asked as Mark scrambled to his feet. But some of Piers' gang circled around them. Great. "I didn't think you could get any lower. A mutie-lover? Seriously?" Harry rolled his eyes. He paused, spotting John's sister and another woman. Why weren't they doing anything? It was up to him. As usual. The so-called adults were never any help. "Boys, the mutant can wait. Get the fag."

"Can't take me on your own, Piers?" Harry asked. There was no way he could take all of them. If only he could either get Mark away or get Piers on his own. Harry eyed the others and it was a split second decision. Fuck it. He dove at Piers and tackled him to the ground.

He threw a punch, and it landed. Blood spurted from Piers' nose. That should stop him for a while. Harry was back on his feet, backing up towards Mark. "Don't jus' stand dere, get 'im!" Piers shouted to the others though his nose bleed.

The two others went to grab Harry. He dodged one but the other grabbed his arm. Harry struggled. He got out a kick and the guy let him go. Obviously they weren't used to their victims putting up a fight. Piers stood again. Harry couldn't take them all.

"Hey, Mark, you have any useful mutations," Harry called, not taking his eyes of the bullies.

"I can't control it," came the small voice behind him. Harry was going to argue, but he didn't have time. One of the guys threw a punch. Harry dodged just enough that it only grazed him. His own punch landed but it felt like hitting a pillow. He was pushed down to the ground and one of the others kicked him. He heard a crack and a sharp pain went through him. There went his rib for the second time that summer. All he could do was try to protect his head as another foot came his way.

But it never hit. He heard screaming. And hissing. Lifting his head, he scrambled back into Mark's feet at what he saw. A giant snake was snapping at Piers and his friends. They pushed back into each other and took off running down the street. Then the snake turned to face them. Harry hurried to stand to face it, getting in between Mark and the snake. It hissed. Why couldn't Harry understand it? Then, suddenly, it disappeared.

"What?" Harry quickly looked around. John's sister was nowhere to be found and neither was the snake. Harry turned to look at Mark's scared, yet determined face. He paused. "Was that you?"

Mark nodded slowly. "I can—I can make things appear. They don't hurt anyone but I can, well, I can scare people." He watched Harry warily. He was scared of what Harry would say, would do. Harry couldn't blame him. Mark was only a little older than Harry when Harry had been dubbed a freak for being able to speak to snakes. It hadn't gone well for Harry at the time either.

"Come on, let's get you home," Harry told him. Mark just stared at him but let Harry steer him down the street.

"'You're that Potter boy," Mark said when they were halfway back to Privet Drive.

Harry snorted. It seems in both his lives he would be called that. "Yeah, I'm him."

"Are you a freak like me?" Mark asked.

Harry stopped him and Mark winced. "You mean a mutant?" Harry corrected. "Mark, you're not a freak. You're just…special."

"So are you special like me?" Mark asked, almost hopefully.

Harry chose his words. "I'm not a mutant." They got to Mark's house and Harry stopped him again. "Do your parents—"

"They know," Mark nodded. "They—they don't know what to say to me anymore, but they're not like the others. I still get pancakes in the morning and gifts on my birthday and pecks on the cheek." He seemed to be re-assuring Harry now.

As if summoned, Mrs. Evans poked her head out the front door. "Mark," she called.

Mark gave Harry a small smile. "Thanks. You didn't have to and they hurt you."

Harry shrugged, not wincing at the pain in his rib. "I've had worse." He watched Mark head home to his mother before turning and leaving. He was suddenly very tired.

PAGE BREAK

John heard voices downstairs. He shoved a shirt in his bag, before closing it. He figured once they wrapped up this business, they would be heading out. Making his way downstairs, he paused in the living room where Magneto, Mystique, and Callisto were talking. Had they intentionally left him out of the meeting?

Magneto stopped speaking, turning to look at him. "Pack your things, we leave tonight."

"What happened?" John asked, flicking his lighter. He saw Callisto eye the flame warily. "You get your mutant?"

"No," Magneto responded. "The boy is happy with his parents." He sounded disgusted even as he left the room.

John turned to face Mystique for more information. "It was the Evans kid," Mystique told him. "Thirteen years old. Too young for us anyhow. Running around with a seventeen year old you was aggravating enough. Regardless, the Evans seem to be the rare set of parents who stick by their child." Mystique didn't seem upset, just a bit shocked.

John raised his eyebrows unimpressed. "It didn't help that one of the humans stepped in to save him a beating from some bullies," Callisto added.

"What do you mean?" John asked, having a feeling he already knew.

"Your boy Potter took a little beating for him," Mystique told him. "He put up a pretty good fight." She sighed. "I was really hoping it would be him. He had that anger about him."

John shook his head. "No, he would've been more X-Men than Brotherhood."

"Another peace believing fool," Mystique said. "Charles would've been so proud with how things turned out this time." Then she and Callisto left as well.

John sighed. This summer had been such a confusing waste. It was time to get back to the real world.

PAGE BREAK

The sun was down when Harry heard the door slam and his uncle's shouts. "Boy! Get down here!" Sighing, Harry looked over to Hedwig who hooted mournfully. He opened the window for her.

"Go ahead," Harry told her as she stared. "No reason that we should both have to listen to this."

"Boy!"

Hedwig looked at him one more time before taking off. Sighing again, Harry made his way downstairs. He paused on the bottom step. Uncle Vernon was waiting in the hallway for him, his face purple from anger and, at least according to the smell, lots of drinking. Harry's stomach tightened. This couldn't be good.

"Come off those steps," Uncle Vernon growled. Harry slowly took his last step. Uncle Vernon led him into the living room. At least Harry had better access to the front door from here. "I just finished speaking to Mrs. Polkiss." Sure after a few rounds, Harry thought, if the way the man was speaking said anything. "She told me you broke her son's nose." Harry swallowed. He went to back up towards the stairs again but he did so slowly and his uncle had already gone to grab him. "A mutant attacked Piers and his friends and you helped it," Uncle Vernon hissed out.

"They were attacking Mark, not the other way around," Harry argued.

"I don't care!" Uncle Vernon shouted. "Now the neighborhood thinks I've raised some mutie-freak. They're talking about me! If this gets back to my job, I'm done. You hear that! Done!"

Spit hit Harry's face. This wasn't good. He already had a cracked rib. Harry tried to pull his arm away but his uncle's grip was tight.

"I bet that was your plan all along," his uncle hissed, his eyes crazy. "You knew I was having a hard time at work. You want me to get fired. You want to ruin my life." Harry stared at him. His uncle had really lost it. He tried pulling away again.

"Let me go," Harry tried very calmly

"This is the thanks I get for taking you in, raising you," his uncle continued as if not hearing him. His uncle was gone. But there was that word again. Harry was getting angry again, almost irrationally. He wouldn't be scared of this man, not after what he faced.

"Raised?" Harry gritted out. "You called what you did raising me? I bet you do your job about as well as you raised me. That's why you're going to get fired. Not because of me. You're a bloody moron."

With one last tug, Harry got his arm free. Harry tried to take off towards the door but Uncle Vernon grabbed him again. Harry kicked him, causing the man to only roar and take a swing at him. Harry was hit more by Uncle Vernon's forearm than his fist. He tasted blood. He didn't have time to react as Uncle Vernon grabbed him again by the head and hair. Harry struggled but Uncle Vernon practically threw him. His head crashed into the window. As it shattered, he felt his rib hit the wall and completely snap.

Harry sank to the floor. There was liquid in his eyes and things had gotten blurry. Had he lost his glasses? Harry tried to get up but stumbled. His uncle was coming again. Harry grabbed at anything to protect himself. He closed his hand around something and it stung his hand. Uncle Vernon came at him again, as Harry heard the front door crash open. His uncle lifted him up and Harry stabbed at him. Harry let go of the piece of glass.

Uncle Vernon let him go and staggered back. The glass stuck out of Uncle Vernon's gut and, gasping, Uncle Vernon pulled it out. The blood gushed out and Harry watched in horror. But he couldn't stay standing. He fell to the ground, watching his uncle grasp at his bloody wound. Suddenly flame appeared before Harry's eyes. It engulfed Uncle Vernon and he fell to the ground screaming. Harry watched, eyes wide in horror. He felt hands on his arms.

"Come on, Harry." The hands tugged at him. Dragging him to his feet. As he was dragged out of the house and the flame caught the rest of the room, Harry was able to look away from his burning uncle and at the person who belonged to the pair of hands. John.

John dragged him out of the house and out to the sidewalk. He placed Harry on the ground. Harry could only blink at him. His head hurt so much.

John tried to get him to listen. His dark blue eyes intensely stared into Harry. "I did this, Harry. You got that? I did this. You tell them that."

"Wha—" But things were going black and Harry could only watch as John took off.

A.N. So a lot happened this chapter. I was going to split this story into two because it's like two stories but in a way it's just easier to keep the two parts together. Hopefully the conclusion to the first part will be up before I leave. Also, I had John kill Vernon Dursley again. It's a pattern with me it appears, but his death in Mutant Son actually came from my ideas for this story so I figure that's alright.


	9. Back to the Real World

_The Boy Next Door_

Summary: After the Cure fades away, Magneto needs to re-build his Brotherhood. He receives a tip that a powerful young mutant lives on Privet Drive. Posing as a family, Magneto, Mystique, and Pyro search for the mutant, becoming convinced that the boy next door, the apparently troubled Harry Potter is the mutant they're looking for.

Pairing: Slash. Harry/Pyro

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or the X-Men. J.K. Rowling, Marvel, and others have that honor.

Spoilers: HP 1-6. AU for summer of HP7. X1-3, First Class.

Warnings: Slash (not too explicit). Strong Language. Adult Concepts. Sexual Content. Violence/Abuse.

A.N. So this is the last chapter until at least mid-August.

**Chapter 9: Back to Real Life**

Harry woke up in the hospital. His head hurt and it took him a while to figure out how he had got there. But then it came back to him. The fight with his uncle. The blood. The fire. John. He had no time to wrap his head around it though.

"Oh, you're awake," a nurse who had to be only a few years older than John spoke from the door. "One second." And then she was gone. Harry took the moment to feel his head. It felt big, if that made any sense, but besides some bandaging, it didn't feel any different than usual.

The door to his room opened again. "Harry Potter, right?" a police officer with a small belly asked.

"Yes," Harry replied. A twinge of pain went through his head as he spoke. "Is my uncle alright?" It was only after he got the words out that he realized how stupid they were. He may have been concussed but he had seen what happened to his uncle.

"I am Officer Keller," the police man told him. "Your uncle is dead." Well, he certainly wasn't beating around the bush, that was sure. Harry, however, focused on him long enough to see the he was looking at Harry. He was in trouble. "He died from his burns. Most of the house went down as well."

"My aunt?" Harry asked. He couldn't remember whether she had been home.

"She was out with some friends," Keller told him. "Normally, we cannot speak to you without a guardian present but as she has given us permission, shall we begin?"

Harry didn't know if he could do this right now. Where was the Order? Shouldn't they have been watching over him? He couldn't do this right now. Not with the way his head was pounding.

"Um, I," he stopped closing his eyes. It helped a little bit. He was on his own. "I guess."

"Well, then," Keller cleared his throat. "What happened tonight?"

"My uncle and I got into a fight," Harry reported. "He was drunk and he came after me." He swallowed for a moment. John was behind the fire, he knew that. He always had that ridiculous fascination with that lighter of his. John had told him to blame it on him. Pyro, the thought came. An image of the three Hortons came to mind. He had heard about the Brotherhood the last few years while he had been home. Pyro, the controller of flames. Raven must've been Mystique and their grandfather Magneto. Not Death Eaters at all, but not much better either. John—no, Pyro—had always insisted he was a bad guy. Harry opened his eyes to see Keller staring at him.

"My uncle nearly threw me through the window and I fought back," Harry continued. "We knocked something over. My uncle caught on fire." He tried to sound confused. "A candle, maybe?" And maybe Harry could buy John some time to get truly out of dodge. He had no idea how long he had been out.

Keller evaluated him suspiciously. "Your neighbors moved out very suddenly, Mr. Potter. Others in the neighborhood said they saw the youngest entering your house."

"I don't," Harry paused. "I don't remember." He had a head injury. That had to be believable.

"You are telling me that you killed your uncle. That your neighbor, John Horton—who does not seem to exist officially by the way—had nothing to do with it?" Keller looked frustrated.

"It was an accident," Harry insisted.

"These people are dangerous, Mr. Potter," Keller informed him almost earnestly. "We believe you were living next door to Magneto himself and your friend? A mutant terrorist by the name of Pyro. You're telling me they had nothing to do with it."

"I killed him," Harry said softly. "It was an accident but I killed him." It was true. The fire may have been the official cause of dead but Uncle Vernon had been as good as dead. He had been losing too much blood. Why had John even stepped in?

Harry didn't remember what happened next. He must've blacked out because the next thing he saw was Remus Lupin quietly closing the door and peering out the door window. He cast a few quick spells.

"Lupin?" Harry asked a little blearily.

Lupin jumped but when he looked at Harry he appeared relieved. "Oh, Harry, thank Merlin." He looked quickly over his shoulder. "We need to get you out of here."

"How?" Harry asked, moving the blankets off of him. The world spun and he had to stop moving.

"You've been cleared. Or well on your way to it," Lupin told him. "Now we're just speeding up the process a little. Once Mad-Eye comes in we're leaving. Voldemort hasn't caught on yet that the Number Four has been destroyed."

"Cleared?" Harry asked as Lupin helped him up and into some shoes.

"No charges are being pressed," Lupin informed him quickly. "Your cousin told the police that it had to have been self-defense. Your aunt very reluctantly backed him up."

"Really?" Harry asked. That didn't sound like his aunt. He felt like he was going to throw up. "Remus, I killed my uncle."

"The police seem to think your neighbor was involved," Lupin told him, checking the time as he continued to prop Harry up. "They accepted that your involvement was self-defense but they want to keep you around for questioning."

"That's what you're speeding up," Harry guessed.

"We don't have time to worry about mutant terrorists, Harry," Lupin said. "We have our own war to worry about, not to mention your safety."

At that moment, Mad-Eye Moody entered the room. "The job's done. It's officially self-defense," he reported. He peered at Harry curiously for a moment. "Come on, Potter, let's get you out of here." Before they disapparated, Moody snorted. "You could find trouble in a padded 's room, couldn't you Potter? Mutant terrorists, honestly."

**PAGE BREAK**

They were in a shoddy flat on the East End, one of those that Magneto kept operating all over the world just in case, waiting out to see whether it was safe to travel. Mystique was doing her thing, blending in and checking the status of the investigation. Magneto had spent the night intermittently sending disapproving glances at John almost as often as Callisto sent amused smirks.

John was about ready to snap at her when Mystique returned. She quickly turned back into her blue form once the door was shut. "Turn on the news," Mystique ordered John. He quickly switched the television on.

"News from Surrey has finally come in on that house fire in which one man was killed," the woman on the screen reported. "It appears that the fire was accidental." John stared at the screen. "The drunk Vernon Dursley attacked his nephew, sixteen year old Harry Potter —not for the first time our sources tell us. During the skirmish, a candle was knocked over, somehow catching Dursley on the fire. The seriously injured Potter somehow managed to get out of the house before the house itself went up in flames. Authorities are ruling the death and fire an accident, with the teenage acting in self defense against his abusive uncle. It's a sad story, isn't it Daniel?"

After what was supposed to be a sympathetic response, Daniel moved on to the next news item and Magneto shut the t.v.

"Interesting," Magneto muttered. He turned to Mystique. "And the officials?"

"No one's looking for us," Mystique reported. "There's not even a whisper of our possible involvement."

"Good, very good," Magneto nodded. Then he turned on John. "It seems your stupidity hasn't cost us anything. Be glad. You risked our safety for an enemy."

John nodded, saying nothing. He knew he was in trouble. He knew there was a lot to make up for, but when he had heard the fight and the window crash, he also knew he couldn't stand back like his neighbors had done all his life. It turned out Harry hadn't really needed his help. He had it handled. But John had lit Vernon Dursley on fire anyway.

John waited until they were safely in one of their safe houses in Canada before he made the call. He dialed the number he still knew by heart.

"Hello," came the too familiar voice on the other end.

"There's a thirteen year old mutant boy at Number 15 Privet Drive in Surrey, England," John said. "I think he needs some help."

"Wha—John? Is that you? John—" But John hung up the phone before Bobby could say anything else. This was his last good deed. Everyone had to have a few in them. Harry had covered for him, so John got the boy Harry had protected some help. They were even. Now, John had a cause to get back to.

**PAGE BREAK**

Harry would've sort of preferred to still have a concussion, but Madama Pomfrey had already stopped by to heal his rib and head. Unfortunately, now he was healed and thinking. Besides Madame Pomfrey, everyone mostly left him alone in Ron's too orange room for the last few hours. He had a feeling his solitude couldn't last. He used to love the Burrow but now there were just too many people around. Harry glanced down at the cell phone in his hand. It didn't work. Of course it wouldn't, not with all the magic around.

Harry had kept the cell phone John had given him in the trunk with all his other stuff. It was a good thing his trunk was magically fire resistant. He hadn't lost anything in the fire.

A small knock came from the door. "Harry?" Hermione called, as she opened the door. Harry hid the phone from view.

"You know you're supposed to wait before you come in," Harry said, turning back away from her and Ron. "I could've been getting dressed."

"I thought I'd risk it," Hermione responded quietly, as she sat at the end of Harry's cot and Ron sat on his own bed. "Harry…" She took a big breath. "What happened?"

"Haven't you heard?" Harry asked a little dully. "I killed my uncle."

"That's not the story we're getting," Ron told him. "Well, we were told that's what you told the muggle please—er police—officers but the Order doesn't seem to be buying it. Honestly, a candle?"

"It wasn't a candle," Harry said, finally turning to face them a bit angrily. "It just happened. Like when I blew up Aunt Marge."

"It was your accidental magic?" Hermione asked, looking confused. "Harry, you're almost a fully trained wizard. No one's going to believe you lost control of your magic."

"Yeah, well, that's what happened," Harry glared, turning back towards the window. "It doesn't matter. The shard of glass I put in his gut was well on the way to doing the job."

"Harry," Hermione paused again. Harry wondered if she even knew how to be careful around him without sounding like she was trying so hard. "Lupin said that the police suspected your new neighbors were Brotherhood. That Pyro did this."

Harry rolled his eyes. "That's ridiculous. Why would Pyro, a mutant terrorist, even _want_ to save some sixteen year old kid he doesn't know from Adam."

"Lupin said you two seemed to be friends," Ron replied, fidgeting a little but very calmly staring Harry down.

Harry snorted. "Then that's even more ridiculous. John Horton isn't Pyro. Why would some extremist make friends with a human? It doesn't make any sense."

"No, I suppose it doesn't," Hermione carefully agreed, but didn't look quite convinced. She sighed. "But it doesn't matter. We came in here to check up on you. How are you feeling?"

"Why? Because I killed my uncle?" Harry asked. "Didn't you hear? It was self-defense." He turned back to the window.

"Harry, none of us knew your uncle was this bad," Hermione sounded upset now. "None of us would've let you stay there." Ron was smartly choosing to let her handle it at this point.

Harry softened just a little. "It wasn't this bad," he told her. "He didn't use to beat me. This was new. And what happened last night? That amount of rage and violence came out of nowhere."

"Do you think You-Know-Who—" Ron began nervously.

But Harry cut him off. "No, not everything's him. Stress and alcohol was enough, I suppose." Harry offered his friends a small smile. "Not to mention I'm never smart enough to keep my mouth shut. I think six years of Snape showed us that." He meant to lighten the mood but mentioning Snape only brought them down again. Harry sighed. "Can we just move on? Let's pretend it never happened."

"I don't think that's a good idea," Hermione implored.

"If we didn't have a mission to complete and I didn't have a Dark Lord to kill, maybe I'd agree," Harry told her. "But until that's done, Hermione, drop it."

Ron and Hermione exchanged glances but didn't say anything. They knew what was important here. And in Harry's messed up life, the fact that he had just killed his uncle (and was covering for a mutant terrorist even though he couldn't explain why) just didn't qualify.

Sighing, Harry turned to his trunk. It was time to weed out the extraneous stuff. Only the necessary things were coming with him on the Horcrux hunt. He shoved the cell phone into the book bag with the Marauder's Map. Well, necessities plus one very small cell phone.

**PAGE BREAK**

John had gotten in without a problem. For an important research facility, the security was seriously lax. Then again, having more security would ruin the whole façade of unimportance Dr. Henry Sullivan was going for.

John quietly jogged down the last few steps. He leaned against the wall, next to the door leading to the hall. He pulled the mini net-book from his bag. Punching in the code Mystique had provided with, John hacked into the floor's security camera. A security guard stepped into the elevator. Good, the basement rounds were complete. John tucked the netbook back into his bag. He swung open the door and quickly made his way down the hall. He reached the next door. This one he could do on his own. Quickly, he hacked the keypad. He heard the door unlock and he smirked. He still had it.

Stuff like this wasn't usually his job but with Mystique hitting the other lab, he was the only one even close to qualified to do this. But John had always lacked the finesse Mystique had. The lab had been careful to keep all their data off any type of network to keep from being hacked. Right now Mystique was probably searching through the computers in the other lab. John didn't have the patience. He began removing the hard drives from the computers, carefully stacking them in his bag. Once that was done, he began rifling through the papers, but nothing seemed important.

John was ready, all he needed was a flick of his thumb, when the door opened.

"Hey, what are you doing here? This place is off limits," the security guard said. John was very aware of the gun but he wasn't done with the papers yet. Just one more pile. He stuck them in his bag, turning to face the guard.

"I know," John said dismissively. "That's why I had to break in." John eyed the gun pointed at him. "Are you really going to shoot me?" He doubted the guard had ever shot at anyone before. His eyes showed his hesitance. "Didn't think so." John threw the book bag over his shoulder.

"What do you think you're doing? I can't let you leave," the guard said, taking a step back as John got closer.

"Then shoot me," John rolled his eyes. The guard didn't, but as John passed he made a grab for him. John twisted out of the way and flicked the flame igniters on. He palmed the flame in hand. He had missed this thing. The guard's eyes widened in fear and he backed up very quickly.

John shot the flame out and the guard screamed. But John wasn't aiming for him. He lit the lab behind the guard on fire and, with one last look at the guard, he left. The lab was going up in flames quickly. The guard would die if he didn't follow John out now. But that wasn't John's problem. He didn't even look back to check if the guard had the sense to save his own skin.

John took off in a jog down the hall. He felt good. Pyro was back.

A.N. I know, this was very short, but this also completes the first part of the story. Next chapter (which again won't be out until at least mid-August) starts about one year later, around one month after Harry's 18th birthday. I'm not writing out the next year because it pretty much follows canon. From this point, events in the Deathly Hallows would've played out almost exactly, just a few exceptions. One, Harry won't be thinking about Ginny like does in the book, though he won't necessarily be thinking about John either. Two, this Harry would probably be in a worse mood throughout the hunt, considering he did kill his uncle. This Harry is angrier and the losses throughout the book, especially the final battle, will hit him harder. Obviously, this story won't be epilogue compliant either.


	10. Hero

_The Boy Next Door_

Part II

New Summary: Fifteen months after the events of Part I finds Harry Potter post-war. While victorious, Harry can't seem to get things back to normal and he soon becomes obsessed with confronting Pyro. Upon meeting him again, things don't go as expected, at least not how Harry consciously expected things to turn out. Harry soon finds himself in the middle of a mutant conflict and, for once, his role as the Chosen One, even a wizard, is not to blame.

Pairing: Slash. Harry/Pyro

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or the X-Men. J.K. Rowling, Marvel, and others have that honor.

Spoilers: HP 1-6. AU for summer of HP7. X1-3, First Class.

Warnings: Slash (not too explicit). Strong Language. Adult Concepts. Sexual Content. Violence/Abuse.

A.N. I'm back. Here's the promised Part II! This first chapter is very Harry and wizarding world heavy. Also, sorry about the OCs but unfortunately I will have to use them in this story to fill up the world a bit. As for Summers, he was a Hufflepuff not assigned a year in the books so I'm taking liberties. On Brotherhood members, meanwhile, I'm going to try to stick to the characters but my characterization will be very off. As I'm working with the movies and have never paid much attention to Brotherhood characterizations, a lot of it I'm making up.

**Chapter 10: Hero**

Fifteen months later….

Harry sighed as he sat down on his bed. Another day of Auror training. Every day, Harry felt surprised by what he still didn't know. Sure, he never finished school but he thought the whole war-thing would help out more. It wasn't exactly that it didn't. Harry was great with tactics and the hands on stuff but his spell tool-kit was terrible. He had always depended on Hermione for that stuff. Now he was expected to know it himself.

It was getting increasingly frustrating and Harry was quickly losing energy. He had always wanted to be an Auror, but now he was just plain tired all the time. He thought winning the war would make a difference, but now he was more miserable than ever. He refused to get back together with Ginny. He wasn't the same person who had been half in love with her. Auror training wasn't enough like the real thing to give him any sense of purpose and, without the war, he didn't know who he was.

Who was Harry Potter without Voldemort? The wizarding world knew, of course. He was their hero. Someone to be gawked at and either respected or hated. But he didn't feel like that person. He had no idea what he felt like. Not one idea at all.

"There you are," came Hermione's voice from the door. Harry glanced over at her curiously. She rolled her eyes at him. "You were supposed to come to dinner with Ron and me, remember? Honestly, I don't know why you insist on living here by yourself in this depressing place."

It was a familiar rant. She didn't understand why he wanted to live in Grimmuald Place and why he couldn't just live with either her or Ron. How could she? He barely understood it himself. All he knew is that he felt just a bit closer to all the people they had lost when he was there.

"Sorry, I forgot," Harry offered her a half-smile. He checked his watch. "I didn't realize it was so late." She didn't seem surprised as she threw him a set of clothes.

"Go shower. Ron and I will wait," she informed him before backing out of the room. He did as she said and soon they were on their way to dinner in Hogsmeade.

"It's not that I don't want to work at the joke shop," Ron said as they sat down at their table. "Just day in and day out I keep expecting something out of George, anything, and I'm not getting it."

"You can't blame him," Hermione said as she waved over Rosemerta. Harry wished she hadn't. It drew more attention to their table and more people began staring at him and whispering amongst themselves. Harry returned his attention to his friends. "It's only been a few months. He needs more time."

"_I_ know that," Ron rolled his eyes at her. "It just doesn't stop it from being strange." He seemed to have enough of the topic. Ron's way of dealing was ignoring. He tried to think about Fred as little as possible these days. Harry wished he could say the same. Some days it felt like all he thought about was Remus or Tonks, or any of the others. Especially any time he visited little Teddy.

Ron turned to look at Harry. "How's Auror training?" he asked almost wistfully. Part of him had wanted to go with Harry but the war had finally taught Ron how precious his family was to him. Harry wouldn't have thought that was a lesson anyone had to actually learn.

Harry sighed. "I don't know what they expect from me. It's like they're finally getting what I've been saying all along. I'm barely average."

Hermione rolled her eyes at him. "You're way beyond average, Harry. You just have to expand your spell knowledge. I happened to overhear a conversation between Madame Bones and Kingsley. They're very impressed with you."

Harry suspected she was just trying to make him feel better but didn't comment. Rosemerta finally made it to their table.

"Two firewhiskeys and a butterbeer?" Rosemerta asked. She at least hadn't taken to gawking at and making a big deal about him. Harry shot her a grateful look.

"Make mine a firewhiskey this week," Hermione requested.

Ron and Harry turned to look at her. She shrugged. "It's been a bad week."

"Coming right up, honey," Rosemerta smiled. "And the usual for food?" All three nodded.

As she walked away she shot a glare over at a few excited witches. "Hush up you four. Haven't you ever seen a war hero before?" Ron snorted.

"So why's it been a bad week, Hermione?" Harry asked, trying to avoid the topic of his training.

Hermione sighed. "Some of the older apprentices have brought up the fact that I never finished Hogwarts. Madame Bones is arranging me to take my NEWTs just to shut them up."

"Why do you even have to take those? You can obviously keep up with the work," Ron said, ears going a little bit red as he got protective over his girlfriend.

"Jealousy, I suppose," Hermione responded. "At least that's what Madame Bones said. I've never been so relieved to have someone so solidly on my side." Hermione had been recruited almost immediately after the war ended for a wizarding law and government apprenticeship. Harry couldn't think of anyone better suited for the apprenticeship than Hermione. He was about to comment on that when their drinks arrived. Harry gulped his down and asked for another. This one he sipped as Hermione sent him disapproving looks.

They had just gotten onto the topic of Fleur's pregnancy when they were interrupted by Rosemerta. She carried over another firewhiskey. "Harry, this comes from the woman at the bar," she nodded over to a pretty brunette, probably in her early twenties. Harry glanced at it warily. "I poured it myself. No love potions, I promise." It may have sounded a bit paranoid but Harry had had love potions poured into his drinks by admirers once or twice. Thankfully, they were never very good potions and he could always tell by the smell, something like books, cars and smoke, which Harry tried not to think about.

"Another girl, huh Harry?" Ron elbowed him with a smile. Harry glared over at him.

"Can you tell her I don't accept drinks?" Harry asked Rosemerta. Harry had learned fairly quickly not to accept drinks from admirers.

"This one's a reporter," she told him. Harry must've pulled a face because Rosemerta sent him a smile.

"Then I _definitely_ don't accept drinks," he said.

Rosemerta shrugged. "I'll pass on the message," she said as she carried the drink away.

"Maybe you should think about getting back into the game," Hermione commented.

Harry stared at her as Ron asked, "What game?"

"The dating game," she responded. At Ron's blank look she continued, "It's a muggle saying." She turned back to Harry. "You haven't dated anyone since Ginny and as it's fairly obvious you two are not getting back together, it's time to move on."

"Oh is it?" Harry asked dryly, taking a decent gulp from his firewhiskey. "And who do you want me to date? Some witch who hero worships me or a muggle girl I'd be pulling into this crazy world?" He didn't mention the few muggle girls he _had_ slept with since the war ended. It hadn't meant anything. And Harry definitely didn't mention the possibility of another guy. He had thought about it a few times but no one seemed to spark his interest. Not like John had. Pyro. But Harry didn't want to think about him. He still wasn't sure of what he thought about the whole thing and he didn't plan on figuring that out. Still, sometimes he lingered.

"I see the problem," Hermione sighed. "But all witches aren't like that. How about some of the girls we went to school with? They at least know you."

"Like Romilda Vane?" Ron inserted with a grin. Hermione glared, opening her mouth to respond, but she was interrupted. The brunette reporter had joined them.

"Harry Potter? I'm Jocelyn Dawlish, JD for short, a reporter with the Daily Prophet," she offered her hand. Harry shook it reluctantly. He didn't exactly need bad press. "Could I possibly have a moment of your time?"

"Sorry I don't take interviews," Harry responded coolly. Hermione's foot found his shin.

"Well, it's not so much an interview I'm interested in," she replied with a flirtatious smile. Ron choked on his drink and Hermione's eyebrows disappeared into her hair. "Oh I don't mean anything as tawdry as _that_. I only wish to warn you of an article I'm currently writing." Her smile changed to something like a challenge. "About the death of your uncle." Harry's stomach dropped and JD's smile widened. "The boy-who-lived, the savior of the wizarding world, a murderer? And the Order of the Phoenix itself covering it up." She shook her head.

Harry's eyes darted around the room to make sure no one was listening. Hermione, seeing this, quickly put up a spell to keep the conversation private. If only it was private from Ron and Hermione as well. He had no idea what JD was about to say.

"I was cleared of all charges," Harry pointed out as calmly as possible, but he couldn't help his glare. "The Order had nothing to do with that."

"So you admit to putting the memory charms on the muggle police yourself?" JD offered a smile reminiscent of Rita Skeeter's. "That is awfully impressive for anyone as badly injured as you were. Such strong spells too. But then again, I suppose you are the boy-who-lived."

"No one changed the outcome of the muggle's investigation of me," Harry said.

Something changed in JD's eyes. Perhaps she saw he was telling the truth by carefully choosing his words. "Even so…I believe the wizarding world will be incredibly interested in the hardships their hero has suffered. Child abuse?" She shook her head as if in sympathy, but her smile soon returned. "And what he is capable of. Thank you, Potter. This has been most enlightening." And with that she left.

It took all of Harry's energy not to bang his head against the table. Instead, he ended Hermione's spell and waved Rosemerta over for the check, careful to avoid his friends' worried glances.

"Harry—" Hermione started after they had taken care of the bill.

"Not here," Harry practically growled. He knew it would be too much to hope that they wouldn't broach the topic eventually. Especially now that it had popped up again.

Ron and Hermione followed him back to Grimmuald Place. He probably could've thrown them off by apparating someplace else instead but he was going to have to face them eventually. He had a feeling they wouldn't let him avoid the issue any longer, especially if it was about to become public knowledge. At least some of it.

So the three of them sat awkwardly in the drawing room for a few minutes before someone broke the silence. "How did she find out?" Ron asked.

"It was in the muggle news," Hermione said. "She must've been desperate for a story on Harry and, not finding anything new in the wizarding world went to the muggle." Despite herself, she sounded a little impressed. She caught herself but more irritatingly took to joining Ron staring him down. Again it was Ron who spoke up.

"You're not going to let us hear the true story from the Daily Prophet, are you?" he asked.

"I don't know. They don't seem to know much," Harry responded but his friends didn't look impressed. "Come on, you two know the story. I killed my uncle."

"In self-defense," Hermione corrected.

"Yeah, self-defense," Harry agreed. But had it been his only choice? Harry was a wizard. He could've stopped his uncle without stabbing him to death.

"The stabbing was self-defense," Hermione assured him, placing a hand on his knee. Harry knocked it off by moving his leg. "But Harry, I know the fire wasn't you. Your accidental magic wouldn't have sparked if you had already gotten yourself out of danger."

"Maybe I wanted to see him burn," Harry suggested darkly. "For what he did."

"That's not you, Harry," Hermione said gently. And she was right. That was someone else. That was John—Pyro—who would've wanted his father to burn for hurting him, so instead he got Harry's uncle. Hermione sighed. "You forget sometimes, Harry, that I grew up muggle, that I'm still connected to the muggle world through my parents. It's funny, isn't it, that the Brotherhood was silent after Alcatraz and Pyro popped up again so shortly after what happened to your uncle, for which he was a key suspect."

"He popped up again in Canada," Harry pointed out. "Not here. Coincidence."

"And odd that you remember so easily where he popped up fifteen months ago," Hermione replied, eyebrows rising. She got him there. He could have argued but his excuses were already shaky and he just walked into her little trap.

"Mate, what happened?" Ron asked. Harry didn't want to look at him. He didn't want to see the worry.

"You're right," he said more to Hermione. "I didn't burn my uncle, but I killed him all the same. There was too much blood for him to have survived. Yes, Pyro burned him. He also dragged me out of the house before it went up."

"Why?" Ron sounded confused.

Harry looked at the floor and took a breath before steeling himself. "I don't know," he finally said. "I don't know why the Brotherhood was on Privet Drive and I don't know why Pyro did what he did."

"Remus said you were friends," Hermione prompted.

Harry's jaw tensed, both at the comment and the mention of Remus. Why was she pushing this? He admitted Pyro's involvement. What more did she want from him? He didn't know why Pyro got involved. He didn't even know if they were friends. Once he let the anger come, it was like it erupted inside of him. "I don't know if we were friends," Harry said glaring at her. "Maybe he thought he was doing me a favor. Like a thank you for the fun times."

"Fun ti—"

"For fuck's sake, Hermione, what do you want from me!" he was on his feet now, yelling. "We screwed around! While people were dying and the Order was fighting Voldemort, I spent my time messing around with a murderer. Is that what you want to know?" Harry ran a hand through his hair and turned away. He didn't want to see their faces right now.

"Oh, Harry," Hermione said, putting a hand on his shoulder. But Harry knew that's how she would react. She would feel bad for him. Ron would be the one who was disgusted. Harry shook her hand off his shoulder.

"Leave me alone, Hermione," he told her.

"But Harry—"

"I said. Leave. Me. Alone," he gritted out. He didn't wait for them to leave. Storming out of the drawing room, he ran down the stairs and out the door. He needed something to drink. And someone to help him forget again.

**PAGE BREAK**

"You wanted to speak to me Madame Bones?" Hermione asked as she shut the office door behind her.

"Not just me," Madame Bones responded. When Hermione turned, she was surprised to spot Shackelbolt sitting in the chair in front of Madame Bones' desk. It wasn't exactly strange. The two of them often spent time in each other's offices. As Shackelbolt was expected to make a bid for Minister soon and Madame Bones stood as his closest ally, it was to be expected.

Madame Bones conjured another seat for her and gestured towards it. Hermione sat, looking between the two. "This is about Harry isn't it?" Since that night, Hermione had only caught passing glimpses of Harry in the Ministry. He was diligently avoiding her a week now. She probably could've put a stop to it but she wasn't sure what she'd say even if she did. She hadn't expected him to admit to some sort of affair with Pyro. She sighed. "Is he okay?"

"I was hoping you could answer that," Shackelbolt admitted, looking worried at her response.

"Harry doesn't share everything with me. What's wrong?" Hermione asked, a little briskly considering she was speaking to her boss and the man that would probably be the next Minister of Magic.

"Potter has been off all week," Shakelbolt explained, ignoring her tone. "First he showed up to Saturday's training hung over. As he is young and many a trainee has showed up on a Saturday morning a little hung over, I did not think much about it." He paused.

"But…" Hermione prompted.

"Potter has always been angry. It is in the way he fights, in the passion he had in the war, but he has always held it back in training." Shackelbolt leveled her with a look. "This week he did no such thing. He may be proving why we accelerated him through the program but, if this continues, someone will get hurt. And it won't be Potter."

Hermione understood now. Harry had been claiming that he was struggling with training, but Harry only really tended to excel in real life, dangerous situations, when he couldn't afford to hold back. But there were other reasons, too. Anger always made Harry more powerful, if at the expense of intelligence. The war, and the events before it, had always been personal for Harry.

She sighed. "There's a reporter," she told the two. "She plans to run a story about last summer."

"Last summer?" Madame Bones questioned.

"His uncle's death. I told you about this," Shackelbolt said almost absentmindedly.

"Oh," Madame Bones remained silent for a moment. "He is worried about this coming to light?" she asked Hermione.

"I don't think so," Hermione said slowly. Harry's experiences in his fourth and fifth year made him almost immune to media and public opinion. "I think it just brought up things he has repressed. Harry doesn't cope. He just moves on to various degrees of success and this time, if you'll excuse my language, it's biting him in the ass."

Madame Bones snorted despite herself but Shackelbolt looked worried. "I do care for Potter but I cannot pretend that his well being is not important to me for other reasons. Potter is too vital in my plans for the wizarding world. We cannot afford for him to stumble now."

Hermione tried not to be annoyed. She understood that Shackelbolt was just being honest and that the wizarding world was still struggling, but Harry was her friend first and foremost. And _he_ was struggling.

"What can we do?" Madame Bones asked.

"I don't know," Hermione admitted. "I don't know how to help him."

**PAGE BREAK**

"Leaving already?" asked the blonde—Kim, Harry remember—the sheets pooling around her. Harry tried not to stop and stare, instead concentrating on zipping his fly. It was a relief he didn't use his glasses anymore-Kingsley had insisted he either get his eyes fixed or get magical contacts, telling him he had been lucky so far no one had thought to simply summon his glasses in the middle of a battle—otherwise discreetly leaving after sex would be so much harder.

"It's late," he responded, checking his watch again. He hadn't meant to fall asleep afterwards. "I have a meeting this morning."

Kim's eyebrows rose. "Like a university interview?" she asked. Sometimes Harry forgot that, to the muggle world, in many ways he was still a kid. Not that Kim was much older than himself. At least not that he could tell.

"Sure," Harry responded, looking for his shirt.

"It's near the lamp," she informed him.

"Thanks," he said as he grabbed for it. After pulling it on, he stood awkwardly there for a moment. "Uh, last night…it was…"

"Fun?" Kim offered with a grin. "Go to your interview." She practically shooed him. "We both agreed this was a one night stand. Lord knows why a boy like you has one night stands. You were so careful to make sure you were not taking advantage of me it was endearing."

Harry winced. "You know, endearing is not really a word most guys want to hear in reference to themselves."

"And yet I use it anyway," she lay back down. "Come by that bar again, won't you?" She offered her lazy grin again. "It's nice to a have a no strings hook-up with someone you know isn't an asshole."

Harry offered her a small smile and as he left. He checked his watch again. He didn't have time to go home and shower. Once he was safe in an alley and sure no one watching, he waved his wand and pulled on the set of robes he conjured before apparating to the Leakey Cauldron.

Harry prepared himself before leaving the designated apparation spot. At first people ignored him but soon the customary whispers started once people realized exactly who he was. He wished he could've worn his invisibility cloak or something. The whispers were very quickly getting louder. It felt almost as if people were shouting by the time he spotted Kingsley and Madame Bones. He slipped into the booth across from them.

"Why are we meeting here?" Harry asked a bit distastefully.

"Because I refuse to go into the office this early on a Sunday morning," Madame Bones said. "And Kingsley here is refusing on breaking his Sunday rituals."

"I spent too many Sundays during the war in hiding. After nearly thirty years of a Leakey Cauldron Sunday breakfast. I ordered you breakfast," Kingsley informed him. "I hope you don't mind."

Harry figured it would be impolite to tell him he wasn't hungry. Madame Bones and Kingsley made idle chit chat as they waiting for their breakfast, while Harry dutifully ignored the stares.

Unfortunately, this couldn't last. "Excuse me, Harry Potter, sir?" A small boy asked. He was accompanied by his mother who kept smiling at him.

"Yes," Harry replied hesitantly. He still wasn't used to dealing with small children.

"Can I have your autograph?" He asked so quietly that Harry almost didn't hear him. Harry hated these moments. He hated saying no to kids but he just couldn't bring himself to hand out autographs.

"What's your name, kid?" Harry asked, turning fully to him now.

"Mark," the kid responded hopefully. Harry found himself thinking about little Mark Evans.

"Listen, Mark, I don't really do autographs," Harry said, hating it when Mark's face fell. "I don't think I can explain it in a way you could really get." Harry tried not to look at the mother's face as her reached into his pocket. He tried to keep as many of these as possible on him for these situations. "Tell you what, though. If you and your mother bring this to Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, they'll give you a full tour." Harry handed the kid the slip of paper with Fred and George's logo, happy to see the kid's face split into a grin.

"Oh mum, can we go, please?" he turned to her eagerly.

"I suppose so, Mark honey," she sighed, though she shot a glare at Harry.

"Yes!" Mark jumped up and down. "Oh thank you Harry Potter, sir."

"It's just Harry," he offered a tight smile and the kid took off, dragging his mother behind him.

"Clever way around autographs," Madame Bones offered. "Lucky you have such close friends in a joke shop. But what do you do, I wonder, for your lady fans? Drinks? Maybe a coupon for Veela Fantasies?"

"What's Veela Fantasies?" he asked, a bit worried.

"A lingerie store, Potter," Kingsley told him, trying to hide his grin.

"Of course not," Harry made a face. He recovered once her realized Madame Bones was making fun of him. As their food finally arrived, he continued. "It's just harder saying no to kids."

"Have you ever considered just signing your name? It is probably easier," Madame Bones said as she dug into her eggs.

"I didn't do anything more deserving of fame than anyone else who fought in the war," Harry said, pushing his eggs around. "It just doesn't seem right."

"You only defeated Voldemort himself, Potter," Madame Bones commented. "You succeeded where even Dumbelore could not, ridding the world of the Dark Lord and his wretched Horcruxes, not to mention freeing Hogwarts from Death Eater control."

"I had help in all that," Harry pointed out. "And I just stood there. It's Voldemort's fault he tried to kill me with the wrong wand."

"Oh, I have one," Kingsley said around his food. "Marching into the Forbidden Forest, sacrificing your life so we could win the war."

"Everyone did that night," Harry argued, glaring at the man. Why was he pushing this? Harry was no different than any war hero, except that if he was smarter or stronger it could've ended sooner.

"Everyone fought that night, some knew it might mean their deaths," Madame Bones agreed. "But no one laid down his life, knowing he would die. No one but you."

"What's the point of all this?" Harry snapped. Madame Bones' eyebrows disappeared into her hair at his tone. Harry softened up. "Why did you want to meet?"

"We are only pointing out that you are a symbol, Potter," Kingsley said. Harry rolled his eyes. "But beyond that, despite what you may believe, you _are_ a war hero and we believe your contribution to the wizarding world is not over. You will accomplish many things in your lifetime." Kingsley leveled him with a serious look. "Potter, I am about to put in my bid for Minister of Magic and I would like your help."

Something stirred in Harry. "I'm not a politician, Kingsley," Harry replied slowly.

"Perhaps not," Madame Bones responded. "But you are a political figure. That is not something you can escape."

And Harry was really worried they were right. The war was over. He did his job. Only it seemed like the job would never end. They thought he was a hero.

**PAGE BREAK**

A couple of weeks later, after a few hours of drinking through his own small supply of firewhiskey, Harry found himself at the same bar as usual, looking for Kim. It felt like campaigning was eating up his soul. It didn't help that Hermione kept trying to talk to him and Ron wasn't trying at all. The nightmares had also started again.

Kim quickly spotted him once he sat down at the bar. It was a lot emptier on a Sunday night. "What can I get you?" she asked from her place behind the bar. Harry tended to prefer the bartenders. They were generally sober. Not that he worried about that anymore. Kim and he had an agreement.

"Whiskey coming right up." She prepared his drink, then stuck around once she handed it to him. "You know, most people your age come in here with friends. They order shots, beer."

"So?" Harry asked, downing his whiskey and looking for another one.

"So, you? You're trying your best to forget something. And I don't like it." Kim was a nice girl. She didn't want anything from him, except maybe sex, and she stayed out of his business. Usually.

"Careful," Harry warned. "I think I see some strings attaching." She had said that to him the week before when he had brought her some food, knowing that she was working a long shift.

"Please," she rolled her eyes. "I'm just worried that the brooding thing might stop being sexy any second." That got a smile out of Harry. "Anyway, are you here for drinks or me tonight? Because I don't get out until late."

"Drinks are fine," Harry told her. At the moment, he was tired enough for that to be true. At least in the muggle world he could drink without people recognizing him and asking for autographs. Since he started to help Kingsley out, the requests for autographs had sky-rocketed and, as these things tended to go, more people than ever hated him.

"Hey, bartender, turn that up," came a shout from the back. Kim turned to the t.v. and hit the volume button.

"—the work of rival gangs," spoke the reporter. "The NYPD was at a loss for what to do and if it wasn't for the interference of the X-Men, who knows how it would have turned out. We go now to the scene where reporters are talking to Iceman."

The scene shifted to what Harry supposed was New York though you couldn't see much beyond the police cars, fire trucks, firemen and police milling about behind the form of Iceman, or Bobby Drake as was apparently his real name, who was indeed talking to reporters.

They seemed to have been coming into the middle of an interview. "Yes, we were informed of the situation fairly early on and left as quickly as possible," Iceman was saying.

"What exactly happened here today?" an off-screen reporter asked.

"This seems to have been a territory war between two gangs," Iceman answered. "So far we haven't seen any evidence of mutant involvement whatsoever."

"But what about the fires? Doesn't it seem likely that the Brotherhood—"

Iceman cut him off, his mouth set in a grim line. "Not every fire is Pyro's work. This one was just gasoline and Molotov cocktails. Anyone can do it." He seemed annoyed. "If you'll excuse me, I'm going to join the rest of my team. The police can handle the questions from here."

Kim lowered the volume and Harry returned his eyes to his drink. "Crazy, huh? The X-Men hotline must ring off the hook. I bet they get a call every time something sets on fire. They—"

"Are you sure you can't get out until later?" Harry asked very suddenly. "Never mind, sorry." He pulled some muggle money out of his pocket, indiscriminately putting some down. "Keep the change. I got to go."

Kim watched him, eyebrows raised. "Alright. I'll call you when I get out."

Harry sent Kim a wave as he left. Right now he just wanted to get home. And Kim wasn't who he was thinking about anyway.

**PAGE BREAK**

Harry was glad that he had gotten into the habit of actually reading the Daily Prophet again. At least he was prepared. Jocelyn Dawlish had finally published that article, highlighting him as his uncle's murderer. At least she hadn't kept Vernon Dursley absolutely innocent, though, admitting his violent confrontations with Harry, but she still claimed that Harry's actions were those of revenge not self defense. She further suggested that it was a pattern of Harry's, that his motivations during the war were only those of self-preservation and vengeance for his parents' murder.

So Harry was prepared as he made his way to Kingsley's office, listening to the not so hushed conversations around him.

"Honestly, I'm not surprised. The Daily Prophet tried to show us how hinged he really—"

"I wouldn't believe it one second—"

"I'm sure Potter had his reasons. I mean he's a _hero_—"

"Rumor has it he never liked those muggle relatives of his. He probably would've joined Voldemort if it wasn't for—"

"The muggle was hurting him. If it were me—"

"He set his uncle on fire for Merlin's sake! Don't you think that's a little overkill for self-defense?"

Harry clenched his jaw and sped up, pushing through the crowds who watched him warily. Finally, he made it to Kingsley's office. The secretary tried to stop him but he pushed right into the office. He couldn't listen anymore. Besides, he knew Kingsley was expecting him.

That didn't stop the somewhat surprised expression from appearing on Kingsley's face over his paperwork.

"Potter, why the sudden entrance?" he asked as Harry threw himself in his usual seat.

"Did you not see the Daily Prophet?" Harry responded incredulously.

A grim look appeared on Kingsley's face. "Ah, yes. Has anyone said anything to you?"

"No," Harry rolled his eyes. What did it matter if they had? He already heard everything they had to say. "But I think I got the gist of what they're thinking."

Kingsley placed his paperwork back into the drawers. "Then you know, Potter, that just as many people, perhaps more, are on your side in this."

"My side?" Harry glared. "_I_ did what I needed to do to protect myself, as usual. I didn't need anyone's help." Harry took a breath to calm himself down. "They're questioning my reasons for fighting the war, Kingsley. They're calling me a murderer."

"And many more still claim you as their hero," Kingsley argued, his voice probably meant to be soothing. "I think this can still be fixed."

"Fixed?" Harry asked incredulously. "My uncle's dead. It's too late for him."

"Not that, Potter," Kingsley sounded exasperated now. "Be reasonable, Potter. I am talking public opinion. We simply gather the press and offer your side of the story. You tell them what really happened that night."

But that was the problem, wasn't it? He was still covering up for Pyro and he couldn't just stop. It would just cause more people to hate him, to question him. Why would he cover up for a mutant terrorist?

"No press, Kingsley," Harry said strongly.

"But Potter—"

"I mean it Kingsley. I rather step down or something." Though Harry wasn't sure what exactly he was stepping down from. The pedestal? "It's no one's business. They wouldn't understand." How could they when he still didn't?

"What do you mean step down?" Kingsley asked slowly.

"Withdraw from the Auror corp, from your campaign," Harry said determinedly. He put up a hand to stop Kingsley's argument. "Not forever. Things just need to cool down. Maybe I just need to cool down." Harry offered a dark smile. "Come on, Kingsley, you have to admit…I'm not in the best of shape right now."

Kingsley sighed, but didn't argue. Which was good. Harry had too much mourning to do and a few things he needed to figure out before he could be of any use to anybody. He knew that now.

**PAGE BREAK**

Harry found Summers quickly after he left Kingsley's office. Summers, a black haired wizard not too much older than Harry, specialized in magical forensics for the Aurors office.

"Hey, Summers," Harry announced as he shut the office door behind him.

"Potter," Summers responded carefully. He had never been a fan of Harry, never treating him badly, just indifferently. "I'm assuming you need something."

Harry decided to get straight to the point. "A favor actually." Summers looked surprised. They weren't, after all, on favor terms but Harry was hoping for something to go his way. "I heard you've been developing methods in tracking dark wizards." Harry took a breath. "Could you track someone down for me?"

"You don't plan on killing anyone, do you?" Summers asked, but he didn't seem too worried about it. "Relax Potter. It was a joke. I rarely believe the stuff they publish in that paper. Still, you do have a temper…"

"I'm just looking for someone I used to know," Harry said. "It's personal. And no, I'm not going to kill anybody."

"I wouldn't say that," Summers snorted. "We'll probably need you to kill someone else someday." Harry wasn't impressed and Summers made no move as if he was going to help him. So Harry turned to leave, a little frustrated. "Wait, where are you going? I didn't say I wasn't going to help you." Summers studied him for a moment. "I can show you a spell, but you need something of that person's. Do you have anything?"

Harry nodded, trying to keep the grin off his face as he thought of that cell phone tucked in one of his drawers. "Yeah, I have something."

"Good. And Potter," Summers called as Harry went to leave again. "No more favors, alright? You can consider us even now."

"For what?" Harry asked, eyebrows furrowed. He never really had any contact with Summers.

"You brought my best friend's body back," Summers said, meeting Harry's gaze. Harry got a flash of a black-haired boy shining a 'Potter Stinks' badge in his face.

"Thank you," Harry said.

"Whatever." And Summers returned to his work.

**PAGE BREAK**

John was bored. The place was crowded and the music was blasting but none if it was entertaining. One of Magneto's new recruits was also talking his ear off, some blond who called himself Avalanche. John looked around the mutant club. Almost everyone there had tattoos proudly displayed, marking themselves as mutants. A few didn't, mostly Brotherhood members. It was a place where everyone knew they were among their own kind and the police were banned from raiding without reason due to agreements with the X-Men. But the people here were more likely to side with the Brotherhood than the X-Men so John figured that was a stupid move on the X-Men's part. Brotherhood members like him were given practically royal treatment here.

Then again, John had no love for the people around him either. He was proud to be a mutant, but he had enough survival instincts not to mark himself as recognizable either. Besides, the marks weren't marks of pride but of hatred for humans. John may have shared that hatred but at least he knew he was better than humans, not just different. He just didn't see how being the jolly green giant was evolutionarily beneficial.

"What are you thinking about?" Callisto asked, cutting Avalanche off. Since last summer, she had started to treat him with a bit more respect. He was the model Brotherhood member in some respects and back to being one of Magneto's most trusted. It would be stupid not to treat him with respect. Everyone knew that.

"Them," John nodded at the crowd of mutants.

"Great, isn't it?" Avalanche said. "It's nice not to be around humans."

Callisto sneered. "Try having to feel them."

John peered at her curiously. "What _do _humans feel like to you?"

"Nothing," she shrugged. "Empty." Her eyes turned towards the door. "Speaking of, someone should alert the employees here that there's a human among us."

Some of the Brotherhood members turned quickly to see what she was looking at, not that they would be able to tell. Usually John didn't let the low-level Brotherhood members tag along with himbut sometimes, on days like today when he was trying not to remember his old life, it was nice to be reminded of who he was and the power he now had. He wasn't just one of Xavier's pathetic, peace loving students anymore.

"Maybe we should just handle it," one of them said, John couldn't remember his name. In fact, he didn't know any of their names. "Have some fun."

John watched them leave and bully the oblivious human off somewhere. Avalanche, meanwhile, tried to strike up another conversation with him. "I'm going out to smoke," he finally said, pulling out his pack of cigarettes.

"Couldn't he just smoke here?" he heard Avalanche ask us he left. "I mean, who's going to stop him. He's Pyro."

"I think he's just trying to get away from you," Callisto replied, and John could hear the grin in her voice.

John heard voices in the alley, probably the Brotherhood members and the human. He didn't really feel like dealing with some stupid pissing contest right now so he was about to leave, but something made him stop.

"Don't you know you stumbled into Brotherhood territory?" one of the goons asked. John rolled his eyes. This was who Magneto recruited? People who thought they were in a gang?

"I figured as much, yeah," came a British voice that made John freeze for a moment. "But I'm looking for someone. And you can put that away, you know, it's not very intimidating."

"I can kill you in seconds with this."

"Good for you," the Brit responded. "Now, could you just point me in the direction of—"

"No need," John said as he rounded the corner, eyes landing on Harry Potter. He was a little taller now, his glasses gone, and somehow a bit more worn down. "Hello, Harry."

"John," Harry said, all but ignoring the mutants surrounding him. He still hadn't learned to worry about his own well-being apparently.

"By now you should've figured out it's Pyro," John said, lighting his cigarette with his igniters.

"I know who you are," Harry said softly.

Two of the Brotherhood members grinned, another looked confused. "Good. Now why were you looking for me?" John asked, taking a step to the side as if to circle Harry.

"Order your goons to leave and I'll tell you," Harry responded calmly, despite the fact that John was letting the flame flare. Then again, John never gave Harry a reason to fear him.

"Who says we'll take his—"

John interrupted the guy. "Leave."

"But—"

"Leave," John said, more forceful this time yet refusing to tear his eyes from Harry. He had the weirdest feeling in the pit of his stomach. Harry looked different. Older, harder.

They didn't argue again, leaving John and Harry to look at each other. "Now, why are you here?" John asked, playing with the flame.

Harry shrugged, for a moment looking like the sixteen year old from last summer. He was eighteen now, John remembered. "I don't know."

And John grinned.


	11. Why

_The Boy Next Door_

Part II

New Summary: Fifteen months after the events of Part I finds Harry Potter post-war. While victorious, Harry can't seem to get things back to normal and he soon becomes obsessed with confronting Pyro. Upon meeting him again, things don't go as expected, at least not how Harry consciously expected things to turn out. Harry soon finds himself in the middle of a mutant conflict and, for once, his role as the Chosen One, even a wizard, is not to blame.

Pairing: Slash. Harry/Pyro

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or the X-Men. J.K. Rowling, Marvel, and others have that honor.

Spoilers: HP 1-6. AU for summer of HP7. X1-3, First Class.

Warnings: Slash (not too explicit). Strong Language. Adult Concepts. Sexual Content. Violence/Abuse.

A.N. Yep, skipping sex scenes. Use your imagination! And please no complaints, I've always made this clear. Already more here than I feel that I can successfully write. Anyway, this is sort of a filler chapter, but one needed for establishment.

Sorry for the long wait. First, I had a house guest which limited my writing and now classes have started so I'm thinking maybe an update once a month. Then this chapter is so short so my apologies.

**Chapter 11: Why**

John was grinning. And it was definitely John. Harry had tried to replace the name with Pyro but now, standing in front of him, he just couldn't. This was John.

Which was probably why Harry was sort of taken by surprise when, with a sudden move, John pinned him to the wall behind him.

"So why are you here?" John asked, voice somehow intensely low, and there was something dark in his eyes. It made Harry swallow a little nervously which made John smirk. A dangerous one Harry had not seen before. Nonetheless, Harry had faced things scarier than a mutant terrorist. He didn't struggle even as John's forearm pinned his head down.

"I told you," Harry said, matching John's tone. "I don't know."

John didn't release his hold but seemed to take Harry in for a moment. "And I just don't believe that," John responded. "You can't expect me to think this was some sort of coincidence. You tracked me down. Now we'll deal with the how later but right now I want to know why." Harry was about to snap that he didn't know again when John's grip tightened. Harry wriggled uncomfortably for a moment and John's blue-grey eyes grew a little darker.

"Unless…" John trailed off before getting, if possible, getting uncomfortably close to Harry. He tried not to react. "The way I see it, there are three reasons you could be here. One, you're here to take me down." The way John said it suggested he didn't really buy into the theory. 'Two, you're here to confront me about what I did to your uncle. Why I even worked my way into your life." Yes, that had been Harry's initial intentions but now… "But I don't think that's it either, Harry. Last summer, you showed you could be corrupted," John practically whispered. "And I think the job's been done. You're here because you couldn't help yourself," John's smirk grew as he leaned closer to Harry's ear. "You want me."

This got Harry to react. With a sudden move, he jolted out of John's grip and pushed him back, glaring as John stumbled, laughing. "That's it, isn't it?" John asked, grin back. "You got a taste last summer and now, you're attracted to danger."

"Wrong," Harry said, holding his glare. "Danger's always been attracted to me."

John tilted his head. They studied each other before both made the first move. Harry pulled John harshly into a kiss and there was no holding back. He didn't let John push him back against the wall again, holding his ground. Eventually, as their mouths clashed, Harry gained control, pushing John back. Harry struggled with John's belt but John's hands found his, stopping his motion.

"Not here," John pulled away, breathless.

"Seems like as good a spot as any," Harry said, eying John's swollen lips.

John snorted. "Always moving too fast," he told Harry.

"Life's short," Harry responded briskly, trying to pull John into another kiss, but John turned his head and Harry made do with John's neck instead. John shifted under him and Harry stopped to gain control of himself. John still had his hands. "Fine," Harry said, frustrated. "You don't want to do this here. I have a place."

**PAGE BREAK**

John laid there for a few moments trying to catch his breath before he managed to get up. He pulled up his pants which were still half-way on before locating his shirt. Harry made no move to get up, wasn't even really looking at him. John wondered for a moment if the guy regretted jumping into bed with him. It was what John had intended the moment he laid eyes on Harry but he didn't think it was what Harry was thinking about when he tracked him down. But John was right. Harry _had_ wanted him. Touching and feeling and rubbing was all that it took to get both of them off, for which John was slightly embarrassed about. Only slightly.

John pulled the shirt over his head. He watched Harry, waiting for him to look at him instead of the ceiling. Was he ignoring him or… "How are you already out of bed?" Harry asked, finally looking at him. His face was still a bit flushed but he managed to pull up his pants.

"Can't stay," John shrugged.

"Wasn't asking you to," Harry pointed out. This wasn't the same guy from Privet Drive. Something had happened. This Harry was worn down, struggling. John felt bad briefly, thinking if this was because of last summer but he stopped himself.

Instead, John ignored the meaningful thoughts. "But you'd like me to. I know you," John said, putting on a smirk.

"People change," Harry responded, laying back down.

John snorted, rolling his eyes. "See you around, kid," he responded instead.

"I'm not a kid," Harry responded almost on cue.

John looked at him. "No, not anymore," he let out. It was selfish but John was glad of that. "See you around, Harry."

And John definitely intended to. The place Harry had brought them to was an apartment, a bit Spartan in its decoration but fully functioning. It looked as if Harry had settled down in the city. He felt…there was no other word for it…he felt good.

Operating basically on cruise control, it didn't take him long to get back to headquarters. It was late and there was almost no one up. Almost.

"So what did you do with him?" Avanalche asked eagerly from where he was eating ice cream, almost as soon as John closed the door.

John's eyebrows rose. "Hello to you too." He was starting to feel like he had a stalker, which was odd because, when John had first met Avalanche, he didn't seem like the stalker type.  
>"And what did I do with who?" John asked coolly.<p>

"The human," Avanalche said. "The others said you were going to deal with him. They said you seemed to know him." He seemed to question idea that John was familiar with non-mutants.

"I didn't do anything," John said, eying the ice cream. He was pretty sure that was _his_ ice cream. "Sent him on his merry way."

Avalanche's eyebrows furrowed. "Why?"

"We don't beat up every human we meet," John rolled his eyes. "I think Magneto might have to talk to you guys about the fact that we're _not,_ in fact, in a gang."

He was about to say something else when Mystique entered. "Avalanche, leave us," she said, using the same tone of voice she used to use on him when he first joined. She smirked as Avalanche booked it out of there. "That never gets old," she told John with a grin.

John looked at her, unimpressed. "Did you want something?" he asked.

"Not really," Mystique said, eying him. John couldn't read her. Not anymore. Their relationship had really suffered since he killed Vernon Dursley. It was like she took his actions personally, but John really had no idea what was up with it.

John stood there for a moment, waiting for her to say something but she didn't. "Right," he finally said. "I'm heading to bed, unless you have another reason for staring at me besides being creepy."

Mystique tilted her head. "So what _did_ you do with the human?"

"Nothing," John rolled his eyes. He knew he wasn't coming off suspiciously. He was as calm as could be. "What's with all the interest?"

"I believe the controversy is over the fact that the two of you were familiar with each other," Mystique said lightly. "The others said he was looking for you." She raised her eyebrows. "I only wonder. Your judgment hasn't always been sound."

So it was about Harry again. He was tired of this, even if it really was about Harry this time. "One day you're going to have to get over that," he sneered. "And, just like you, I don't limit who I sleep with to mutants."

"And just like me, you don't tend to reveal who you are to them."

John shrugged. "It happens. Now stop being so fucking paranoid. I'm really going to bed this time." He didn't wait for her response, heading up to his room instead. He really wasn't in the mood for this. It had been a good night. As soon as he could get away from the Brotherhood for a few hours, it would definitely happen again.

**PAGE BREAK**

Harry couldn't say he was surprised to find John on the other side of the door a few days later. Though, he had been expecting to see him again a little sooner. Harry stepped aside to let John in, feeling his stare.

So Harry also wasn't surprised to be pulled into a rough kiss, even before he could close the door. He managed to slam the door shut, stumbling a little as he did so, pulling John with him as he fell into the door. The fall knocked the breath out of him for a moment but John didn't give him a chance to catch it. But Harry didn't want to. He returned John's kiss with the same amount of force, pulling John closer to him by the waist band of his jeans.

John's hands began to wander but Harry turned his attention to steering them towards the bedroom. Thank Merlin, it was a small apartment as John wasn't helping much in that department. It was slow work as Harry kept getting distracted by the mere sensations kissing John brought up. Somehow they managed to shed shirts on the way. Harry had a fleeting thought that this was what was missing, this was really why he had needed to find John but that was the moment John brushed against his crotch.

They were almost to the bed when John turned them around, pushing Harry onto the bed and crawling over him. John began unbuttoning Harry's jeans but Harry pushed his hand away. John paused to look down at Harry, his face a bit flushed and eyes dark.

"No," Harry managed to breathe out. John's eyebrows furrowed, clearly confused. "Last time…you got top, my turn." Harry pulled John into a kiss, biting at his lip and switching their positions. He felt John grin into the kiss, arching his back and rubbing against Harry. He hadn't exactly been expecting John to be into the switch but apparently who was on top meant very little to John.

Harry pulled away long enough to unbutton his own jeans, letting John work on his own. "Not so inexperienced anymore, are you?" John asked, watching as Harry pulled out the condoms and lube he had been smart enough to purchase. "All grown up." The wicked grin John sent him just served to turn Harry on more, if possible.

Harry paused for a second, but didn't tell John that this w_as_ new for him. And that John was still the only guy he had been with. John didn't deserve to have his ego stroked like that.

"You talk too much," Harry finally said before kissing him again.

**PAGE BREAK**

John had been ready to leave afterwards but he was just too tired. It had been a long time since he had been on the fucking end. Hell, he hadn't really been with many people since last summer, having dove into Brotherhood work instead. So he was tired and sore and the bed just felt too comfortable.

Harry didn't comment when, after only managing to pull on his boxers, he slipped back into bed with him. They both fell asleep pretty quickly, but John never slept a full night straight. It was habit to wake up every few hours.

When he woke up he felt warm, that was the only way to explain it. He felt the weight of a body against him. He gazed down to see Harry basically snuggled against him. Obviously they both had moved in their sleep. Harry's face was calm, young again in a way that John hadn't seen since the summer before. Less worn, less sad.

John had never slept like this before. Never with someone so close. The phrase 'physical contact' to him almost always implied sex. And this was so surprising that, for a second, his body stiffened. Harry must've felt the change because he frowned in his sleep. Or John thought in his sleep.

"Go back to sleep, John," Harry muttered without opening his eyes.

It was all John really needed to relax. Harry wanted him here, had come looking for him. John really didn't know how to describe last summer. He was drawn to Harry, had gotten close, and not just because of the mission. There was always something about Harry. As for John, well he thought that Harry had gone for the character he had played: John Horton. But Harry knew who John was now, had for a while. Not only did he cover for him, but he had sought John out for comfort for whatever had happened to him. Didn't Harry always?

So John really couldn't describe what this was, but he knew he liked it. He didn't care that Harry was human, that he had a mission against humans. John had always been selfish—it's how he survived—so he knew he was going to keep coming to Harry. Harry wanted him and John liked being wanted.

**PAGE BREAK**

Harry was staring at the tv, watching as the incredibly large man emerged from the ball of lightning. Arnold Shwarzenegger. There was knocking on the door.

No one ever really knocked on his door, except John that one time, and Harry hadn't seen John for at least a week. He had heard, of course, on the news about the Brotherhood strike against the research lab in rural Texas. A few had been killed, none from burns.

Harry got up and went to the door, a little distracted by the movie as he opened the door.

"You know, I could be a robber right now," John pointed out as soon as he noticed Harry wasn't really paying attention. Harry turned to look at him.

"Figured it was you," he shrugged, eying the pizza box in John's hand. "New job?" he asked.

"Just got back," John said, brushing past Harry. He didn't say from where but Harry watched the news. "And I wanted to see you."

"So the pizza…" Harry asked, watching as John put the box on the counter and flipped it open.

"I'm hungry," John responded, grabbing a slice. "Take one." He looked past Harry to the tv where it was just going to commercial. John grinned. "Dinner and a movie. We're practically on a date."

Harry stared at the pizza for a moment before grabbing one and joining him on the couch.

"I thought you didn't date," Harry said. He paused for a second. This was the first time either of them had mentioned any conversation from the summer before. Well, they hadn't exactly spoken much before either.

John shrugged. They finished their pizza in silence and John got up to get another slice, but Harry was very quickly distracted by the movie coming back on. "Yes, _Terminator_," John commented, fixing his eyes on the movie in interest. Harry glanced over at him. Well, there was a piece of information on him.

It was incredibly comfortable sitting on the couch, watching a movie. John seemed really into it. As the movie went on, Harry got more relaxed. "So which one?" John asked, suddenly.

"Huh?" Harry tore his eyes away from the screen.

"Reese or Sarah," John said. "Which one would you go for?"

"I don't know," Harry replied. He was a little confused by why John was trying to make conversation. John had gone back to watching the movie and Harry tried to study him surreptitiously. He didn't know what to make of any of it. Harry had tracked down John to confront him, the next thing he knew, they were sleeping together. Now they were just hanging out. It was kind of like the summer before again. But John wasn't John Horton. He was Pyro. And Harry didn't know anything about him. Did he need to?

Harry didn't know why he did it but he did. He lay down, placing his head on John's lap. For a moment, he felt John tense but soon there was a hand in his hair. Harry closed his eyes for a second. The contact felt good.

"Neither are really my type, I guess," Harry said as he opened his eyes.

"Dinner, a movie, now cuddling?" John replied instead. "You're going to ruin my reputation."

"As a big bad mutant terrorist," Harry said, perhaps a little darkly.

John didn't skip a beat. "I meant as a bit of a man whore but we can go with that too." Harry couldn't help it: he smiled. "You know that's the first time I've seen you smile since you showed up again."

Harry tilted his head so that he was looking up at John. "I smile."

"Really. When?" John challenged.

"When someone gives me something to smile about," Harry shrugged.

"That didn't used to be so hard before," John commented. Harry froze for a moment, thinking he may have started an unwanted conversation, but John only turned back to the movie again.


	12. Fight

_The Boy Next Door_

Part II

New Summary: Fifteen months after the events of Part I finds Harry Potter post-war. While victorious, Harry can't seem to get things back to normal and he soon becomes obsessed with confronting Pyro. Upon meeting him again, things don't go as expected, at least not how Harry consciously expected things to turn out. Harry soon finds himself in the middle of a mutant conflict and, for once, his role as the Chosen One, even a wizard, is not to blame.

Pairing: Slash. Harry/Pyro

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or the X-Men. J.K. Rowling, Marvel, and others have that honor.

Spoilers: HP 1-6. AU for summer of HP7. X1-3, First Class.

Warnings: Slash (not too explicit). Strong Language. Adult Concepts. Sexual Content. Violence/Abuse.

A.N. Thanks everyone for the awesome reviews and feedback. It's amazing how much attention this one's getting! So, going straight for the action even though it feels sudden.

**Chapter 12: Fight**

"Did he get it?" Harry asked into the phone, looking up as John entered the apartment. He raised his eyebrows when he saw that Harry was on the phone.

"Yes and he loved it," Hermione responded. "But I'm sure he would've loved it more if you were here. You're his godfather, Harry."

She always knew exactly what to say to make him feel bad. "I know, Hermione," Harry replied as he watched John pull a beer out of the fridge. "I just…you know why I can't go back. Not yet."

"I know, Harry," Hermione sighed. "Just please tell me that you're taking care of yourself."

"Don't I always," Harry tried to sound upbeat.

"Don't start with me, Potter." Her voice was so deadpan that Harry had to grin.

"Take care of yourself, Hermione," Harry said a bit fondly. He did miss his friends.

"Hypocrite." With that she hung up. Hermione's flat in muggle London was well equipped with muggle amenities, including a phone. It was how he stayed in touch with Ron and Hermione. Occasionally, Hermione would even babysit for Teddy and then Harry got to talk to him too. But Harry couldn't help but think that Remus definitely made a mistake in choosing him as a godfather.

"Who's Hermione?" John asked at the counter. "Is she that ex-girlfriend of yours?"

"Hermione?" Harry made a face. "No she's one of my best friends. She practically spends her life worrying about me."

"She wants you to come back," John guessed. "But you're not ready…yet," he said slowly.

Harry looked at his hands for a second before looking back up at him. "What are you asking me?"

John shrugged. "It's the same question, isn't it? Why?"

Harry snorted. "Clearly, I don't know." He offered a smile. "Or apparently, as the first thing I did was jump into bed with you, maybe you were right. I just couldn't resist you."

John eyed him. "I'm not kidding, Harry." He sighed, drinking more of his beer. "Something happened to you."

"Yeah, my uncle almost killed me," Harry said, going for his own beer. "Then I killed him instead." Sure that wasn't everything that happened but it was a good starting point. The part he never had a chance to recover from and things just kept getting worse. Harry sat on a stool, cracking open his drink.

John put his beer down. "You didn't kill him," he said. "I did."

Harry paused, bottle to his lips, something finally hitting him. "Is that…is that why you did it? So that I wasn't the one to do it?"

"Clearly you haven't gotten the picture yet," John said, leaning back. "Who I am. Killing your uncle was fun. He was a worthless human who touched something that was mine. I'm a killer."

Harry eyed him for a moment. It wasn't a possibility he could rule out. He didn't really know John that well at the end of the day. But something was telling him that wasn't it. "Well so am I," he finally said. "Unc—he was a dead man already. The wound I gave him was fatal."

Something flashed in John's eyes. "Was that why you didn't tell the cops about me? You think you killed him? I bet you thought you should be punished or something ridiculous like that."

This conversation was quickly going downhill. For some strange reason, it was sparking Harry's temper and Harry knew himself well enough to know that nothing good ever came from that. "Please, I am not as good-natured as all that. Uncle Vernon deserved what he got," Harry snapped. He froze. "I—I didn't mean that."

But a grin had spread across John's face. "Yes, you did."

"No, I didn't," Harry said very quickly. "I didn't want him dead but what I did was self-protection. And _you_ did what you did to protect me. Don't give me that bad guy bullshit again."

"You really don't get it do you?" John said softly, almost incredulously. "I _am_ a bad guy. Do you just avoid the news all together? Just last week I burnt a cop to near death. He'll be in the burn unit for months and his nervous system will never be the same again." John stood. "Harry, I _am_ one of the bad guys. You can't just pretend otherwise so you can sleep at night knowing that you share a bed with me. Or do you just not care?"

"The bad guys never think they're the bad guys," Harry said softly. Even Voldemort himself didn't think of himself as evil. "And I've seen enough of them to know you're not one of them. I watch the news almost every night." Harry's voice had gotten very cold. "I don't like your methods. I know what you are and what you've done. And I care. I care a lot. I think what you're doing is wrong and I hate it. But it's not my place to critique you. The people you hurt, in some way, they deserve it. Or they're just casualties of war. I don't like it but I get it. I just wonder if sometimes you realize that not everyone is on a side in war. There are innocents." John was watching him very carefully, very still. "I don't want to talk about it anymore," Harry muttered. "I'm not here to fight."

John didn't say anything for a second, seeming to be considering his words. "You're not here to fight," he repeated. "Maybe you should figure out why you _are_ here. You don't approve of what I do…that's who I am. I'm not John Horton. I'm Pyro, St. John Aller—" John stopped very suddenly, but Harry's ears were already perked.

"St. John?" Harry asked eagerly. "Is that your real name? And Aller-what? And—"

"Stop," John growled. "You think I'm going to tell you?" he asked incredulously, causing a dull stabbing pain in Harry's gut. "Not when you're hiding shit from me."

"Hiding?" Harry asked, shifting closer to John. "You know my name. You know how I grew up. You know that my parents were killed. What do I know about you?"

"I don't know," John replied angrily. "How about who I am? Or at least you should. All that other shit doesn't matter." He stood, angrily grabbing for his lighter. It seemed to be a nervous tick for him. He had those igniters; he didn't need the lighter. Nonetheless, he was flicking the lighter open and closed, pacing shortly. "It doesn't matter," he repeated.

Harry leaned back in his seat, studying John, knowing that there was something he was missing. Quietly he replied. "Of course it does. We're not separate from our past. We are our past. There's no escaping it. So, yeah, it matters a lot." Harry tilted his head as he looked at John. "Did your mother really die?"

"No," John answered shortly. "I lied about that to get in good with you."

"Why?" Harry asked, unable to keep the confusion out of his voice.

"You were a mission," John said, stopping his fidgeting with the lighter. "We thought you were a mutant. My job was to get close to you. Mission accomplished, eh?"

Harry's insides felt frozen. It was a con. He looked down at his hands, eyebrows furrowed.

John made a motion to catch his eye. Harry glared up at him. "Do you get it now? You know who I am now, don't you? So who are you Harry?"

"Get out," Harry said, voice unmistakably angry even to his own ears. John gave him a smirk, but did as he said. Harry continued to glare even as the door shut behind him.

**PAGE BREAK**

He really shouldn't have been so angry. John supposed he was just frustrated and he was up enough on his own self reflection to know that his automatic response to almost any emotion he felt was anger. Maybe it was the fire in him.

So John was incredibly relieved to find a mission waiting for him when he got back. Another hospital testing on mutants. It was all very legal even if it wasn't funded by the government. Private backing and parents signing permission forms. All of it was quite disgusting. They only just now found out about it because a mutant was killed the day before.

The plan was easy enough. A small group of them were going. Quicksilver and Multiple Man would be breaking the kids out. Mystique and Wanda would be inside collecting research and taking down whoever got in their way. Avalanche and John would be on the outside, taking the building down.

John didn't pay much attention to the briefing so, once they arrived in Chicago, he was surprised to see the size of the actual hospital. "How many mutants are in here?" he asked Mystique incredulously.

"A lot," Mystique responded, not bothering to look at him. "Don't worry about it. That's not your task." John supposed that she was right. "Coms on. Quicksilver, Multiple Man, go." They only made it a few steps when a familiar sound passed overhead. The X-Jet. "Go!" Mystique shouted when they hesitated. "Everyone else do your job. Take out any X-Men who tries to stop you."

John felt the smirk spread across his face. He really needed a fight and as his eyes landed on the figure surfing down an ice slide, he knew his old friend would give one to him. John had to restrain himself from attacking Iceman first, instead turning to the building. He waited for Mystique to give him his go ahead on the com, staying out of sight until then. While the other X-Men entered the building, Iceman began to patrol the outskirts. He disappeared around a corner.

"Pyro, Avalanche, do your damage," Mystique said over the com.

He didn't need to be told twice. Getting within controllable firing range, John flicked his thumb, calling the fire to him, pushing it out at the building. His approaching fire was quickly iced over. With a smirk, John calmly turned to see his former friend approaching. It had been too long since their last confrontation.

"John," Iceman said, eying him cautiously.

John didn't respond. He quickly sent fire towards Iceman. It was met with ice and the battle of wills began. John made sure to light a nearby trash pile on fire. He wouldn't let Iceman take away his source of fire this time. He wouldn't repeat the same mistakes. Creating a wall of fire, he pulled the stream up short, quickly moving into a new position and tried to catch Iceman by surprise. But Iceman was ready, maneuvering himself to get closer to John. Obviously he was counting on John to still be the weaker one at close range and hand to hand. But John had been training. He let Iceman get in close then threw a punch, his fist on fire. He was blocked.

"We don't need to fight," Iceman called through the rushing flame.

"We kinda do," John shouted back.

"We're here for the same thing!" Iceman tried again, dodging out of range briefly. "We want to get them out too!"

"And let the humans get away with it!" John shouted angrily, pushing more into his flame. He heard Iceman hiss, but soon the cold wave of ice was coming back stronger.

"Joh—" But Iceman was interrupted by a rumbling. The ground shook and the building began to shake and crumble. Avalanche was at work. A piece of the crumbling building almost struck John. The rumbling stopped but the building still only precariously stood. John was about to continue his attack but was surprised when Iceman whirled back towards him, face white. "Stop, John. Stop!"

Amazingly he did. "Had enough Bobby-boy?"

"There are patients in there, John," Bobby said very quickly. "Listen to me. Not just mutants. Innocent people are going to die if that building goes down."

"You call those doctors innocent?" John sneered.

"Fuck the doctors," Bobby snapped, surprising him. "This is a functioning hospital."

John quickly looked at the building. He had thought it was a research facility. Did it matter? But he had hesitated. Iceman didn't miss it.

"The other patients are innocent, Johnny. Just let me get them out. Please," Bobby said, in a very familiar voice. Pacifying John. Or trying to. His mind went briefly to Xavier's face, a flashback to some almost forgotten class on ethics and war. Then he thought of Harry. _I just wonder if sometimes you realize that not everyone is on a side in war. There are innocents._

"Go," John said, backing up. He hated the look on Bobby's face. Iceman's. "Before I change my mind. Go!"

John watched Bobby turn and rush into the building without hesitation. Patients began to run, walk, or roll out of the hospital. A nurse ran out carrying a small child. That was when the rumbling began again. He watched as part of the building came on, creating a rough path for the rest of the patients. The patients stopped coming. Then he finally saw Bobby again, pushing a hospital bed over blocks of concrete, trying to keep hold of some portable machine as well. Once the bed almost tipped over. John almost took a step forward. No, he was doing enough by letting Bobby just do this. Then the ground really began to shake. Bobby dodged a brick that nearly landed on his head.

"Aw come on," John said more at himself as he found himself rushing to help his old friend. He tossed out the com. It was almost worth seeing the look on Bobby's face. John paused. "Just leave him," he hissed.

"No," Bobby responded incredulously.

John sighed. "Grab that end!" he growled as Bobby struggled again to move the bed.

Bobby didn't hesitate. "On three!" he shouted over the rumbling. "One. Two. Three." Together they lifted the bed just high enough to get it over the obstruction. They put the bed down and Bobby pushed it past him. John nearly tripped over the rubble, feeling his ankle twist.

"John," Bobby hesitated.

"Just go," John said in frustration. He glared. "Don't expect this again."

"I wouldn't dream of it," Bobby said with that boyish grin. It was too much. Too confusing. They weren't friends anymore.

"Next time, Iceman, no holding back. I'm taking you down," he warned, though he didn't feel very threatening with his ankle quickly swelling.

John didn't watch Bobby leave, instead going to collect his com. "Pyro! Pyro!" he heard Mystique growl impatiently.

"Calm the fuck down, woman, I'm here," John said. "Heading back to the exit point."

"About damn time," he heard Pietro grunt out.

**PAGE BREAK**

Mystique watched Scarlet Witch check over a none too happy Pyro's ankle. "It's a fucking sprain. Ice and wrap. Why do I have to be here?"

"It is Brotherhood procedure for all injured members to be checked over in the infirmary," Scarlet Witch said, unimpressed by Pyro's attitude.

Pyro glanced around the room with a sneer. "And that's what we're calling this?" He turned his glare to Scarlet Witch. "What makes you all qualified anyway?"

"Ignore him," Mystique told the girl. "An injured or sick Pyro is a cranky Pyro. No more than a child really."

"I always do," she responded. "He's no worse than Pietro."

Pyro glared but didn't respond, perhaps trying to prove he was at least better behaved than the boy who usurped his position as youngest member. Quicksilver was only about a year younger than Pyro but he behaved years younger.

Scarlet Witch sighed. "Well, he's right. It's a sprain." She handed Pyro an ice pack and ace bandage before leaving.

"She's awfully friendly," Pyro practically grumbled, glaring at the ice pack before breaking it. "I hate ice."

"Could've fooled me," Mystique said, leveling Pyro with an evaluating gaze. "What's wrong with you?"

"A sprain apparently," Pyro said tightly. Mystique grabbed his wrist and pulled him forward. The boy hissed as she jolted his angle. "Fuck off, Mystique!"

"Now is not the time to help the X-Men," Mystique said sharply. "Not after last summer. I saw you with Iceman. He's the enemy."

Pyro glared. "They were there same as us." He ripped his arm out of her grasp. "Maybe if I knew there were other patients in the hospital, I would've been prepared."

"Prepared?" Mystique asked incredulously, taking a step back. "For what? You have to prepare yourself to let humans die."

Pyro seemed unsure for a moment. "They weren't involved, Mystique. They were just sick."

"Weren't involved," she repeated slowly. "How many of them do you think would've stepped in for a mutant? Who among them probably hated our very existence? There is no such thing as an innocent human."

Pyro peered at her. "Maybe not. I don't know. But we're not any different." His face grew stony. "Mutants, I mean. Look at the Brotherhood. Thugs and criminals the lot of them. I'm all for my own survival. I am a mutant. But I don't think we're any better. We're all too human." He shook his head. "Nowadays, I fight for me, not mutantkind."

"I bet that's it," Mystique said with a roll of her eyes. "It's about being selfish. About mutants being as bad as humans."

"Sarcasm doesn't suit you," he glared over at her. "Just say what you mean."

"You know what I think your problem is, Pyro?" Mystique said, taking a step forward, getting increasingly angry and not able to control it. "You're too soft-hearted, under all that anger. Xavier knew it when he took you on as a student. If you weren't, you wouldn't have to _prepare_ yourself for letting humans die. You certainly wouldn't run off and help your old friend get them out. You're not one of us, not really. Last summer showed us that, didn't it? You didn't care that the Potter boy was human. You _felt_ for him. You fought for him." She felt her anger starting to leave her. The problem was she was taking this too personally. She cared for Pyro. "Did you know Charles' was once like a brother to me?"

Pyro's eyebrows furrowed. Clearly he hadn't. "When we were kids, he took me in. It wasn't until I met Magneto that I realized Charles was too much the idealist, too much the dreamer. When I did, I left him on a beach, shot and paralyzed. I joined the cause without looking back. Not once." She peered down at him. "You don't have it in you."

Pyro moved very quickly, drawing a flame. "What don't I have in me?"

But Mystique wasn't angry any more. "All you have, John, is a lot of anger. But that doesn't last. You don't belong here. Not anymore. Maybe not ever."

"Maybe I don't agree," Pyro replied, his voice strong but something missing from his eyes. He didn't, not yet, but soon he would realize.

Mystique shrugged, leaving him in the infirmary.

**PAGE BREAK**

John headed to Harry's quickly after everything was said and done. He just didn't feel like staying with the Brotherhood at the moment. Despite the fact that Mystique and he had not been getting along as of late, knowing officially that she was so upset with him was enough to get him out of the building.

The only iffy point here was how he was about to be received by Harry. The last time they spoke, they fought. John had actively tried to make Harry mad at him. Not his brightest idea, as Bobby would say. John paused in mid-knock. He didn't want to think about Bobby.

Harry answered the door anyway. "What do you want?" he asked, crossing his arms.

"You know," John shrugged. "Make amends. Apologize, I suppose."

Harry only looked at him, not yet letting him in. "So?"

"So…what?" John asked, eyebrows furrowing.

"The apology…." Harry gestured with his hand.

"Oh yeah," John said. He thought about it for a moment. "I don't know how much apology is the right word…" Harry rolled his eyes. "What I mean is…we need to talk." John really couldn't believe he had actually said that.

"Come in then," Harry said, moving aside.

John took a step, resisting the wince but not keeping from limping. Something changed in Harry's eyes but his jaw tensed, as if physically resisting sympathy.

"What happened to you?" Harry asked, watching maybe too carefully as John took a step.

"Twisted my ankle is all," John said with a shrug. "There was a bit of rubble and I was distracted and… yeah sprained ankle."

"The Monroe Institute didn't work out so well did it?" Harry snorted, leaning against a counter. "So…you said something about an apology."

"Yeah," John trailed off. He didn't even know how to start. "I…us…It had nothing to do with the mission. I mean it sort of did. That's why I started talking to you, but everything else…I don't know why but there was something about you. I was always pretty sure you weren't the one but I kept it up with you."

Harry tilted his head. "You were looking for Mark."

"Mark?"

"Evans? The kid I was protecting that day…"

"Oh yeah," John replied. He wrinkled his nose. "Yeah, he was all satisfied with his life. Not much use to us really." Harry didn't look impressed. "Harry, why I was with you…it had nothing to do with the mission. I just said that." Harry's posture got just a bit less stiff, but he didn't say anything. "My mom didn't die. At least I don't think so," John admitted, looking down at his hands and trying not to fidget with his lighter. "She left us. Me and my dad. I was really young and I don't really remember her. My dad, he always told me she was a good for nothing slut that didn't care about either of us." John cleared his throat. "He seemed to really love her so I doubt he lied."

"And he…I mean was it true? About him breaking your arm?"

John met his eyes. "Yeah," he ran a hand through his hair. "I loved him. He was the only thing I had. He just, I guess he didn't feel the same." He could actually see Harry melt, just a little bit, so he kept going. "One day, he beat me so bad I thought I would die. I took off the next day. Hopped on a boat and stayed on until it reached New York."

Harry looked down at his hands as he listened to the story. He looked up at John once he finished. "Where are you from then?" John just looked at him for a few moments. As curious as he was, Harry looked sixteen again. Not literally but he lost for a moment that hardness that was mostly new to him.

And John decided to answer. Harry wouldn't betray to him. He didn't know how to explain why he knew he wouldn't. "Australia. Small town outside of Sydney."

"You sound American," Harry said, utterly confused.

"An accent is easy to lose if you want to," John said absentmindedly. He peered at Harry. "Do you forgive me yet?"

Harry smiled. It shot straight to John's heart. "St. John, huh?"

"Yeah," John said with a small smile and roll of the eyes. "Allerdyce. Australian. Abused. Lots of 'a's actually."

"St. John Allerdyce," Harry repeated. "It's a good name. Why wouldn't you want it?"

"Besides the fact that Allerdyce was also my abusive father's name?" John shook his head. "John Allerdyce worked a while. Then it was just Pyro. My own name, you know?"

"I guess I can get that," Harry said slowly. He scratched at the back of his neck for a moment. "Did you really trip over some rubble?"

"Yeah," John smirked. "Not always so coordinated."

"Never got that feel from you," Harry commented lightly. He ran a hand through his hair. "Do you need some ice?" He glanced towards John's ankle. "I mean I like heat better but I hear it helps."

"Maybe a little distraction would be nice," John said slightly.

Harry rolled his eyes. "You're asking for sex aren't you?"


	13. In

_The Boy Next Door_

Part II

New Summary: Fifteen months after the events of Part I finds Harry Potter post-war. While victorious, Harry can't seem to get things back to normal and he soon becomes obsessed with confronting Pyro. Upon meeting him again, things don't go as expected, at least not how Harry consciously expected things to turn out. Harry soon finds himself in the middle of a mutant conflict and, for once, his role as the Chosen One, even a wizard, is not to blame.

Pairing: Slash. Harry/Pyro

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or the X-Men. J.K. Rowling, Marvel, and others have that honor.

Spoilers: HP 1-6. AU for summer of HP7. X1-3, First Class.

Warnings: Slash (not too explicit). Strong Language. Adult Concepts. Sexual Content. Violence/Abuse.

A.N. As usual, thank you for all the positive feedback. I never expected so many reviews or follows. As a reward New POV! And lots happening.

**Chapter 13: In**

Bobby could've groaned in frustration. "You're not getting it." He hated that it practically came out as a whine but the other team members were treating him like he was still one of their students.

"Listen, kid, we hear you, alright? We just don't think it means as much as you think it does," Logan said, his own tone a bit frustrated. Probably tobacco withdrawal. Even Logan didn't dare smoke in the Mansion.

Storm placed a hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry, Bobby, but I have to agree. We all knew John but for our own sakes we have to accept that he's gone."

"That's convenient isn't it?" Bobby shook her hand off. "He's Pyro now. John was your student. Pyro's the enemy. Makes it easier on you to kill him off, huh?"

"Bobby, no one said anything about killing him," Jean jumped in. Sometimes Bobby still had a hard time looking at her like he used to. He kept wondering if the Phoenix would make an appearance again. "I just don't know what you want us to do about this information."

Bobby looked at her. The way she had stated it. "So you get it, then, right?" He turned to the others again. "John didn't have to let me save the patients. He certainly didn't need to help me." He turned almost pleadingly to Scott. He would get him. He had always done in the past…before Jean died at least. Bobby was still finding it hard to connect with his once adopted brother.

"Bobby, he helped you because he didn't want you to die," Scott said as gently as Cyclops ever could. "We know it's not black and white. John didn't become evil or anything. He just ran off and joined Magneto."

"But it's an improvement," Bobby insisted. "Last time we fought, he _wanted_ to kill me. Even if he wasn't really helping the patient, he helped _me_." He turned his eyes hopefully to the younger members. Kitty wouldn't meet his eyes and Pete looked unfazed as usual. Rogue was looking at her gloved hands. No help there. Suddenly it hit him. He turned back to Scott. "How about Mark?"

"What about him?" Storm asked gently.

"John called me last year. Told us where to find him," Bobby said very quickly.

"Another mutant," Jean pointed out. "Not exactly a stand against Magneto's mission." She sighed. "But I think you're missing the point, Bobby. What do you want us to do?"

"I'd settle right now for a promise not to go for the kill shot," Bobby said coldly. He looked at Logan. "I mean you, slash-happy." He saw Scott hide a smile.

"Enough," the Professor said from where he was near the window. "Bobby," he said in his soothing voice. "I see your point. I'm far from thinking any of Erik's people unreachable, especially not one of our own like John. However, Jean does have a point. The moment you have an idea on what we can do, we will reconvene on the subject."

Bobby nodded, mind whirling. The Professor was open for possibilities. As the meeting disbanded and his friends ducked out of view, probably to avoid the subject of John, an idea came to him. He found Mark in the library, bent over a history book.

"Hey, Mark," Bobby said pulling up a chair.

Mark looked up from his book and smiled. "Hello, Mr. Drake." Bobby brushed off the weird feeling he got from being called that. He had graduated early so that he could legally teach at the mansion. Still, he didn't feel like a teacher. "Did you want something?"

"Yeah, actually I did," Bobby said, hesitating for a moment to figure out how to approach the subject. "I was wondering if you could tell me again about your meeting with the Brotherhood."

"Sure," Mark scrunched up his face, obviously confused. "There were two women. Ms. Monroe called them Callisto and Mystique. Then Magneto showed up. I really didn't like him."

Bobby offered him a smile. "Neither did I." He cleared his throat. So far nothing new. They hadn't really asked Mark much about the Brotherhood at the time, once they established he wasn't some sort of spy. "How about a guy? He would've been about my age. Slicked back brown hair, or maybe spiky blond. Dark blue eyes. A couple of inches shorter than me."

"You mean Magneto's grandson?" Mark asked. "Or well, not his grandson I suppose. He wasn't there when they spoke to me, but I saw him around the neighborhood. Mostly with Harry."

"Harry?" Bobby prompted.

"Oh yeah, Harry," Mark said brightly. "Kind of the neighborhood outcast. He's only there in the summers. They say he goes to St. Brutus' School for Hopeless Cases but he was really nice. The day the Brotherhood approached me, he protected me from a couple of bullies. Then he walked me home."

Bobby thought for a second. "And you saw John with him?"

"Is John Magneto's—well the guy?" Mark asked curiously.

"I think so. You probably heard of him as Pyro," Bobby said. Mark's eyebrows furrowed. Bobby paused. "What is it?"

"Well, Harry's house…" Mark cleared his throat. "It was terrible really. All over the news. Harry's uncle died in a fire and the house burnt down. But the news said that Harry had done it. That it was an accident and that his uncle was attacking him."

"Does this Harry have a last name?" Bobby asked, very still.

"Potter. Harry Potter."

**PAGE BREAK**

"I have news," Bobby said, rushing into the Professor's office, not even pausing when he saw that Scott was already in there. He handed the Professor the stack of print-outs..

Xavier and Scott must've been humoring him because they didn't even scold him for barging in. They flipped through the pages. "I know it's not much," Bobby said very quickly. "But I never asked for anything when I became the poster boy. I didn't even think about it. It's just…John's my best friend and I'm going to do whatever it takes to save him."

"I don't know if he needs saving," Scott said. "He's taking care of himself fine…and then some."

"You know what I meant," Bobby replied, turning to look at Xavier who was focused on the papers.

"So this is the work of Pyro? How did you—"

"That's Privet Drive, where Mark's from," Bobby explained, cutting Scott off. "I talked to him to see if he remembered John. We got to this. I know the articles all say that the kid did it but…"

"No, that's not even a believable story," Scott shook his head. "He knocks over a candle and his uncle catches fire like that? Yeah, maybe if he was drenched in kerosene first. Or if Pyro helped him along."

The Professor, meanwhile, was looking at Bobby. "What are you thinking, Bobby?"

"I'm thinking John protected this kid for some reason. Mark said that he saw them together a lot. There had to be a reason he was protecting this guy…a human guy. I want to find out why. Maybe we can use it, maybe it's just further evidence that John doesn't belong with the Brotherhood."

"What is your current theory?"

"Well, I'm not delusional," Bobby said slowly. "John was never someone to just protect someone. And he was never good at making friends. Either he saw himself in this kid or…" Bobby cleared his throat, remembering a long ago 'facts of life' lecture between the mansion's teenage boys and Xavier. "Or he was sleeping with him. We might be able to use this."

"Perhaps…" Xavier said almost to himself. He focused in on Bobby again. "I'll see what I can find through Cerebro."

**PAGE BREAK**

Harry was watching the news when John got out of the shower. It was good timing, or terrible timing depending on the way you looked at it. Iceman was still on screen talking about the hospital. It was the same interview from the night before. John paused behind him.

"Do you have to watch that?" he asked.

Harry ignored him. "So why Iceman? Why is he their mouthpiece?"

"Mouthpiece?" John asked, limping around to join Harry on the couch. "Nice lingo. You have experience in politics or something?" Harry felt the unwanted guilt. John had shared stuff about his past and Harry was still lying, or rather keeping things to himself. But it was different with him wasn't it? Telling John anything was technically against the law. Harry felt a twinge of self-loathing. Even he knew that was just an excuse. He was being selfish. Not wanting to be Harry Potter. Just Harry.

"You didn't answer my question," Harry said, skipping the comment entirely.

John shrugged. "He's a nice, normal looking pretty boy. It's PR 101. They made the face of the X-Men, the face of mutants really, someone that can pass as human."

"Most of you can, can't you?" Harry asked curiously. "I mean, physical mutations aren't dominant, right?"

"Lots of them don't get to live that long," John said darkly. "Killed at birth, killed by angry humans. Unless they got some wicked mutation up their sleeve, it's not really the most useful of mutations." John made a move to shut off the TV, clearly not enjoying listening to Iceman talk. "You know, evolution is technically random. It's all based on random mutation. A useful mutation will help you survive. Maybe it's passed on to new generations. Maybe the not so useful mutations get weeded out so that they're not really represented as much in the population. Natural selection. Ah, the beauty of the theory of evolution." John smirked. "Technically we don't have to kill off the humans to win. They'll just be weeded out over the generations. Magneto's just trying to speed up the process."

Harry made a face. Maybe it was unfair, but Harry could help relating Magneto to Voldemort. Voldemort didn't have some grand science theory to use, but he had the blood purity ideology. What was so different? "He wants to live to see the day," Harry surmised. "Without interference, it would take hundreds of years for mutants to come to dominate the human world."

"In the past, it was more on the line of thousands," John shrugged. "Then again, no species developed nifty flame manipulating mutations before."

"Except maybe dragons," Harry said lightly. "I mean they're more into flame generation, I suppose, but you don't see them ruling the world."

"Okay, in the realm of the real world, then," John said, grinning at Harry, obviously thinking he was joking. Harry had forgotten for a moment that John didn't know dragons were real.

"You know a lot about evolution," Harry said instead.

"Not really. It's the basics," John brushed off the compliment. "I should know more. I mean I _was_ taught by the leading expert in mutation."

"You were?" Harry asked curiously.

John paused for a moment. "Well, Magneto would like to think of himself that way." Harry stared at him. So he wasn't sharing everything. Somehow, that made Harry feel a little better on his end. Harry maneuvered himself so that he could rest against John. He felt John's arm tighten around him. He closed his eyes. It was these moments that made him never want to be Harry Potter again.

**PAGE BREAK**

"He's a what?" Bobby asked, blinking at the Professor.

"A wizard," Xavier repeated. "And quite a famous one at that. I knew the name was familiar but I did not even begin to think that he was that Harry Potter."

"So magic exists?" Jean asked, a little shocked. The rest of the X-Men seemed to agree.

"Oh yes. Quite so," the Professor responded with a small smile. "You remember my friend Albus Dumbledore, don't you?"

"The guy that looked like Mer…" Bobby saw Scott's eyebrows actually rise above his sunglasses. "He wasn't actually Merlin, was he?"

Xavier let out a laugh. "No, no. Merlin died centuries ago. Albus was quite a powerful wizard in his own right, of course. Most powerful in the world for a while, too. He passed not too long ago." His eyes turned to Bobby. "Harry was a student of his. More than a student really. Harry had a destiny to fulfill and Albus made sure that it was done, or tried to. In fact, Harry is regarded as quite the hero. He defeated a dark wizard that not even Albus could defeat."

"And wizard-boy found himself in bed with Pyro," Logan stated, slightly amused.

"An odd turn of events, certainly," Xavier commented.

"We don't know that, not really," Bobby inserted. "It was just a guess."

"A good one, I believe," Xavier informed him. "You see, when I was in Cerebro, I found Harry. And John, too. Together."

"But this kid knows who Pyro is, doesn't he?" Rogue asked, eyes intense. Despite the fact that John and she rarely got along, Bobby knew that she had felt betrayed by his leaving.

"He would have to. He saw what John did to his uncle," Xavier replied.

"And covered up for him, too," Storm pointed out.

"He wasn't the only one," Xavier went on. "Well, he did cover up for Pyro, I suppose, but I looked into it further. I wondered why Brotherhood involvement was not suspected. And why such a suspicious story was so easily accepted as fact. I saw some interference with neighborhood and police officer memories. I believe Albus's group, the Order of the Phoenix helped cover things up."

"Your friend? I thought you said he was one of the good guys," Kitty said, surprised.

"My guess is they didn't have time to think about who they were helping," Xavier told her. "They were charged with protecting Harry Potter. He was still needed. Perhaps they thought he _had_ done it, but they still needed him."

"Not to interrupt story time," Logan cut in roughly. "But I don't see what any of this means. So Pyro found himself a magic boy to have a bit of fun with. How does that affect us?"

"The last time I spoke to Albus before his death, only a few years ago, we spoke at great length about Harry. Albus described him as a boy not only willing, but feeling as if compelled to do the right thing. To protect. To save innocents. A true hero, Albus said. If he truly knows who John is, I doubt John's activities sit well with him."

**PAGE BREAK**

Harry took a sip of his coffee as he flipped the page of his newspaper. Hermione had sent it to him, charming it to appear as a muggle newspaper to muggles. Apparently, there was an article she wanted him to read.

"Is this seat taken?" a kind voice asked.

Harry looked up. It was a stranger with blond hair and blue eyes and he looked strangely familiar. "Yeah, but…" Harry glanced around the rest of the place. "Neither are most of the seats here."

The stranger sat himself down in the booth across from Harry anyway. "Harry Potter, right?"

Harry felt his hand slowly moving towards his pocket where his wand still was. He had a notice-me-not charm on it so that it wouldn't draw John's attention, but it was always with him. "What do you want?" Harry asked steadily.

"You don't recognize me, do you?" blue eyes asked with a grin. "Don't watch a lot of news…"

Harry narrowed his eyes, head tilting. It hit him. "Iceman?"

Iceman's grin widened as he shrugged off his jacket. "You can call me Bobby. Any friend of John's, you know?"

"I don't know what you mean," Harry said, not so convincingly. Lying wasn't always his strong suit.

"Listen, Harry," Bobby breathed out. "I'm not here to hurt him, so you don't have to lie to me. I know about what really happened to your uncle. And I know you never stopped seeing John."

"That's not really true," Harry said calmly. "I hadn't seen him for a very long time. We chatted, caught up. The end."

Bobby shook his head, a small smile still on his face. "Nope, not really true either. It's nice and all that you're trying to protect him, but John doesn't need protecting from me."

"You're X-Men, he's Brotherhood. I think it's pretty clear," Harry said, not liking that Iceman was trying to play him.

"Nothing is clear," Bobby said, smile finally leaving. He looked almost imploringly at Harry with those icy blue eyes. Harry didn't want to give him a hard time. The X-Men were in the right; he knew that. But John… "The X-Men don't exist to fight the Brotherhood. We even worked together once, not that that worked out very well. We only fight them when we have to. As long as they're not in their headquarters, which is apparently protected, Xavier can find them whenever he wants, but we're not there to take down mutants, only stop them when they're doing something bad." Bobby paused. "But we're not even talking about the Brotherhood. We're talking about John."

"Why do you keep calling him that?" Harry snapped, getting impatient.

"That's his name…" Bobby trailed off. "Don't you know? Of course you know. He wouldn't have changed his first name. He always found that too confusing."

"Always?" Harry asked, shifting in his seat. "You…you know him, don't you? I mean really know him. Not Pyro, but John."

"Pyro and John are the same person," Bobby informed him firmly. "Always has been always will be. And of course I know him. He was my best friend and roommate for two years." Harry stared. That was unexpected. John had never said anything. Never even hinted that he knew Iceman beyond the battlefield. "He didn't tell you," Bobby continued. "Of course he didn't. Probably wants to distance himself from his X-Men past. Also he likes to pretend to hate me. Did a pretty good job, too. Convinced me at Alcatraz."

"X-Men past," Harry repeated a little dazedly. He knew there was something about John. That he didn't really belong with the Brotherhood. Maybe he could…Bobby was watching him a little too closely. "Why are you here, Bobby?" Harry asked, voice hard.

"I think you already figured it out," Bobby said lightly. The tone was ruined when he sighed. "Listen, Harry. I don't want to have to kill my best friend. On the battlefield, things happen…as I'm sure you know. The next time we face each other, if John goes all Alcatraz on me and legitimately tries to kill me, I might have to do what's necessary. And I can't just keep carrying him off of disintegrating islands. You see what I'm saying?"

"Not at all," Harry replied, eyebrows raised. "Well, no, I get the battle thing. Not so much the island, but I guess that's not important."

"You know, I thought it was a lost cause for a while. That my best friend was gone," Bobby looked down at the table for a moment. "I was prepared to do what I had to." He looked up. "But last time we faced each other, he let me go save innocent people and when he saw the building was crumbling down, he came to help me. Probably not so much the humans as he told me to leave them, but he came to help me." Bobby caught Harry's eyes. "So you see, he's not a lost cause."

"You want to use me to use John to take down the Brotherhood," Harry guessed, unimpressed.

Bobby sighed in frustration. "I told you. We're not about taking down the Brotherhood. I just want to get John out. The Professor agrees. He's one of us. At least he was." Bobby's jaw was tense. "I won't let him keep doing stupid things. It's been long enough."

"He believes in what he's doing," Harry said quietly. "It's not stupid to him. I don't agree with it, but it's not up to me if he believes in the cause."

"But he doesn't," Bobby insisted. "I mean, I'm sure he did once. It's fading though. John's just…he's always been angry. When the school was invaded, when the cops attacked us at my house, he saw war. Maybe he was right. But things aren't like that anymore. He was at that hospital to get those mutants out. So were we. And he didn't want to kill innocent humans like the other Brotherhood members did."

Harry let out a harsh laugh. "I think you're succumbing to wishful thinking there. John doesn't want to help mutants. He wants to punish people. He thinks that there are people out there who deserve to burn. Maybe he's right."

Bobby studied him. "But? Come on, Harry, why aren't you out there with him punishing people?"

"But," Harry said looking at him, speaking very softly. "Who are we to decide?"

Bobby offered him a small smile. "I'm not asking you to betray him. Just to help him." Bobby got up.

"I don't think John will see the difference," Harry said, leaning back in the booth, mind rushing.

"That's Johnny for you," Bobby said with a shrug. "Never knows what's for his own damn good." He pulled on his jacket. "I'll be at the school whenever you decide."

**PAGE BREAK**

John ignored the pain as he ducked behind the dumpster, reaching out a hand to balance himself. He waited a moment to make sure no one was following. Unsteadily, he removed his hand from the dumpster. Blood. He used his shirt to wipe it off. Standing and grabbing his side, John ducked onto the street.

He was losing blood and he was too far from headquarters. It was both the first and last place he wanted to run. Not quite having the energy to find his key, he banged on the door.

To Harry's credit, once he spotted the blood, he didn't hesitate. He practically dragged John in, swinging the door shut behind him. "Bathroom," he muttered.

John pulled a bit out of Harry's grasp. He could walk after all. Nevertheless, he followed Harry's directions and found himself leaning against the sink. Harry pulled John's hand away to see the wound.

"What happened?" Harry asked, face solidly focused on the wound.

"Got shot," John said with a shrug. He winced at the pain. "Mystique dragged me out on some random mission. Didn't go so well."

"You got shot," Harry repeated, grabbing for a towel and pressing it against John's side. "I don't know what to do about bullets," he said. John rolled his eyes. He didn't exactly expect Harry to. And though clearly worried, Harry was impressive in his calm.

"The bullet's out," John cringed, taking a look at the wound. "Mystique did that before we had to split up. The cops followed us. Either very brave or very stupid, if you ask me."

"No one did," Harry said, not amused. He started rummaging through the medicine cabinet, but there wasn't much in there, not even as much as a band aid. "Stay here." John didn't pay any attention. He looked under the towel. He wasn't losing much blood anymore. It would be fine. He just needed…Harry returned with a half a sheet and some vodka. "I don't have any needles or anything to stitch it up with if it needs stitches, but we can at least disinfect it and wrap it up."

John offered him a smile. Harry really was rather composed. Blood really got to most people. Then again Harry was never like most people. Harry grabbed the towel from him and doused it in vodka, soaking it into his side. "You're lucky you know," Harry told him, voice even. "Barely missed something vital. Your wound is only a couple inches off of where I got my uncle." John watched him carefully, not even wincing as the vodka stung at him. "Here," Harry handed him the bottle. "I don't have painkillers."

"Man after my own heart," John replied, hoping to get a smile, but Harry was all business. He chugged down some of the vodka, the burn in his throat welcome against the pain in his side. Harry shredded the rest of the sheet, then paused. "I think I can handle this," John grabbed the shreds. Despite being composed, it was clear Harry didn't quite know what to do.

"Good," Harry said, moving away from him and watching him carefully. Only his overly tense shoulders betrayed how worried he actually was. "Are you going to need stitches?"

John tied off the pseudo-wrapping. "I got some supplies stored not too far from here. Give me a little and I can get it. It's late. I'm gonna have to break in."

"In your state?" Harry snorted. "Just drink your vodka. I'll get it."

John peered at him. "You're gonna have to break in," he repeated. Honestly, he didn't feel quite up to it.

A smirk appeared on Harry's face. "I robbed the world's most unrobbable bank. I think I can manage it."

John stared. "You robbed a bank."

"It's a long story," Harry said, moving away from him and grabbing for a jacket. He turned back towards John before leaving. "I'll tell you some time, okay?" he said almost hesitantly. John could only watch him as he left. A bank? Really?

**PAGE BREAK**

John was still passed out when Harry left the next morning. He hadn't slept that night, continuously checking on John, making sure he was still breathing. The injury wasn't too bad considering the blood. It had been so long since Harry had seen blood. He tried not to think back to the war, even as he broke into the storage facility, but it wasn't even the reminder of the war that shook him the most. Harry had never liked what John did, but this was different. He had never worried about John before. John was supposed to be indestructible. And it really was the final straw.

Harry took the train out to Westchester, then caught a cab to the school. "You look normal," the cab driver commented as he pulled up to the gates.

Harry rolled his eyes. He paid the driver and watched as he drove away.

He took a deep breath and approached the gate. Slowly, he reached out to ring the buzzer, but before he could press the button, the gates swung open. "Way to be creepy, telepath," Harry said, hoping that Xavier would hear him, or read him, or whatever it was like.

By the time he got to the door, two people were waiting for him, a beautiful black woman with white hair and an older man in a wheelchair: the Professor.

"Hello, Mr. Potter," Xavier said as he approached. "I'm afraid Bobby is in class right now, but he'll be with us shortly."

Harry nodded, looking towards the woman. "Storm," she introduced herself. She watched him warily. Harry couldn't blame her.

"Nice to meet you," Harry said. The Professor sent him a kind smile. It reminded him of Dumbledore. He felt his stomach turn. He had thought he made his peace with Dumbledore.

"Let's go inside, shall we?" Xavier said. Harry trailed behind them as they led him to a large, old-school office. The two turned to him. "Sit down, please," Xavier gestured towards a seat.

Harry did as he said and they sat in silence. Storm didn't make it a secret that she was studying him and the Professor sat there in silence, with that kind smile. He was starting to get uncomfortable. Dumbledore… "It is nice to finally meet you," Xavier broke into his thoughts.

Harry focused in on him. "Finally?"

"Yes, there was a time that Albus Dumbledore and I were good friends. We tried to keep in touch over the years. The last time I saw him, he spoke almost solely of you," Xavier explained.

"Did he?" Harry responded, almost more out of politeness. He was honestly surprised they knew each other but what did he say to that?

"Yes. There was a time when Erik, Albus, and I were all quite good friends. Albus was a good mediator between the two of us. Erik and I never had much in common but Albus connected with both of us in ways we couldn't connect with each other. We were much alike, just as Albus was much like Erik," Xavier said as he began shuffling around his desk.

"Dumbledore was nothing like Magneto," Harry snapped, glaring over at him. Magneto was evil, Dumbledore fought for the greater good with everything he had.

"I thought your current position would have taught you that things are never so black and white," Xavier replied, tone sounding lecturing. He stopped looking around his desk.

Harry rolled his eyes. "I don't need to be lectured."

"Maybe you do," Storm inserted. "After all, you are the one who has sunk to—"

"Sunk?" Harry asked sharply, already knowing where she was going. "I'm already a killer. Might as well sleep with a killer."

"Nobody is judging you," Xavier interrupted, sending a look towards Storm. "And I would never call you a killer, Harry. You defeated Tom, that's the best way to look at it."

Harry shook his head, with a tight smile. "I wasn't talking about Voldemort. He wasn't human. Not anymore." He looked up at Xavier. "I killed my uncle. And I got away with it. I'm a murderer." Harry thought he should remember this look. He had a feeling people rarely surprised Charles Xavier. "Yeah, I wasn't covering up for John. I was telling the truth. I stabbed my uncle. He was a dead man. Then John came running in and set him on fire. I don't know why. I don't exactly take his word on what kind of man he is. But I'm no saint either. I'm not anyone's savior. I survived and Voldemort died. That's it. I'm no hero."

It was the most Harry had said in a long time. To anyone not John. They were treating him like Harry Potter and he wasn't—not anymore. Not ever really. Harry Potter was a myth the wizarding world made up.

"_One day you'll see. You'll believe. Albus certainly did."_ It had been a long time since someone had spoke in his head. Harry turned away from him. His eyes landed on Bobby Drake in the doorway.

"So you're not going to help us," Bobby said, closing the door behind him.

"I didn't say that," Harry said a little dully. He swallowed. "John was shot last night. He's okay," he inserted quickly to keep Bobby from worrying. "It's…" He let out a breath. "Look, John doesn't belong with the Brotherhood. I mean, I'm not stupid. I know what he's capable of. Magneto saw hatred and anger and fear, and he knew what to do with it. Still, there's too much _good_ in John. I know it's there." He turned towards Xavier. "Listen, I've known this a while but I never figured it was my place. I'm done being the one making the call, being the judge. But I never thought…I never thought." Harry ran a hand through his hair. "Last summer, John was there for me. He took care of me and…" It was hard to voice exactly what John did for him. Harry never had anyone that took care of him, not like that. "I just never thought of what John did as dangerous. Like it could hurt him." Harry met Xavier's eyes. "I can't let him die for something he doesn't believe in."

Harry glanced over at Bobby. "So you're in?" Bobby asked.

"I'm in."


	14. Found Out

_The Boy Next Door_

Part II

New Summary: Fifteen months after the events of Part I finds Harry Potter post-war. While victorious, Harry can't seem to get things back to normal and he soon becomes obsessed with confronting Pyro. Upon meeting him again, things don't go as expected, at least not how Harry consciously expected things to turn out. Harry soon finds himself in the middle of a mutant conflict and, for once, his role as the Chosen One, even a wizard, is not to blame.

Pairing: Slash. Harry/Pyro

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or the X-Men. J.K. Rowling, Marvel, and others have that honor.

Spoilers: HP 1-6. AU for summer of HP7. X1-3, First Class.

Warnings: Slash (not too explicit). Strong Language. Adult Concepts. Sexual Content. Violence/Abuse.

A.N. Thank you for all the great reviews! Here's a new chapter. It's rather short but packed with stuff.

**Chapter 14: Found Out**

"Hey," Harry said as he came through the door, grocery bag in hand. John watched him from where he was drinking coffee at the kitchen counter. "Are you sure you should be drinking coffee?" he asked, placing the bag down and not looking at him as he unpacked.

"What's it going to do to me? Burn a whole through my stitches?" John responded a little groggily even to his own ears. Harry handed him a bottle of pills. John glanced at them. "These are prescription strength," he commented. He eyed Harry. "How you get 'em?"

"Pharmacy," Harry told him. He looked a little shifty. "I didn't _steal_ them," he insisted. "I paid for them."

"You stole drugs then left money for them in the cash register," John said, eyebrows rising.

"More or less," Harry shrugged.

"Well, you _are_ the seasoned criminal, aren't you," John teased. "More or less." After popping a few of the pills, he waited but Harry only continued to unpack the last of what was in the bag. "This is where you tell me about robbing banks."

Harry paused. "Last year," he said slowly. "I mean it wasn't really stealing from anyone because it was stolen property anyway. And breaking in wasn't really the hard part. Getting out was," he rambled.

John stared for a moment. Part of him was shocked and part of him wasn't surprised. Harry had a story, he knew that. And while he hadn't been expecting crime, he hadn't been expecting puppies and kittens either. Then again, there seemed to be a pattern here. It was never really stealing, apparently. "Almost got caught?"

Harry ran his hand through his hair, looking sheepish. "Only a little bit. Kind of destroyed the place getting out."

"Why?" John asked, studying him.

"Well, it wasn't completely intentional but we were surrounded and—"

"No, I mean why did you break in? What was it?" John's coffee was getting cold but he knew this was important. The big bad past Harry pretended only boiled down to last summer's events with Vernon Dursley. John knew better.

Harry looked at him for a few moments. This was where he was figuring out how to lie to John. "The vault," Harry cleared his throat. "It belonged to a follower, eh of sorts, of…Listen, I can't tell you everything," he interrupted himself in frustration.

"Why not?" John challenged. "I've told you quite a bit."

"Not everything," Harry glared. "And don't pretend you have. The way I see it, we're pretty even right now. You already knew a bunch of stuff about me. I didn't know anything."

"I'm pretty sure it's not supposed to be a contest," John commented, remembering a conversation he once had with Bobby over a break-up. "Yep, I'm pretty sure a relatively well-balanced on the mental scale kind of guy once told me that with relationships no one wins or loses: you both do."

"Relationships, huh?" Harry said, a little quietly. "Is that what this is?" He looked up at John with those expressive green eyes. They were sad most of the time, still were even now.

"Well, clearly it's not just sex," John said a little awkwardly. There were a lot of different ways he could say that, but ways a lot more embarrassing than that.

Harry nodded slowly, as if more to himself. "I can't tell you everything," he repeated, slowly, eying John as if begging for him to understand. "I can't even tell you why. Something's holding me back and it's not any one single thing. I can tell you some things, though." He breathed out, looking away from John. "The short, edited version? The night my parents were killed, the man that killed him—Tom Riddle—well, he meant to kill me too. He ran into some complications, I guess you can say. Tom Riddle wasn't just any murderer, either. He had followers. For a while, it looked like he was dead or gone and those followers of his that weren't arrested laid low. Well, mostly." Harry finally looked up at John. "The thing was, he wasn't gone, at least not permanently. When he returned, he wanted me dead. He wanted a lot of things but me dead was a top priority. I represented his failure. A weakness that the rest of the world could see. I didn't have much of a choice but to get involved. Help take him down. Even if I did have a choice…" Harry said all this very quickly, hesitating here and there. He met John's eyes. "He killed my parents. Left me in my uncle's home. And he kept taking stuff from me, from a lot of people. I couldn't just stand back. That bank-it was in his hands and there was something in there he didn't want anyone to know about. So we broke in and we took it."

John could only stare for a few moments. He had known that Harry's parents were murdered. Harry told him that last summer. What he hadn't realized was Harry's involvement in the whole thing. He couldn't see the cops letting a teenage kid help out either. So Harry was involved in something, something big. Something that he ran all the way to America to get away from.

"What happened to Tom Riddle?" John asked, realizing Harry had never said. "Are you running from him?"

"He's gone," Harry said, shaking off the question. "Dead this time."

"Did you do it? Kill him?" John asked slowly, studying Harry carefully.

"More or less."

"Well, fuck," John commented. "That's some shit you're running from then. They try to arrest you for it?"

Harry snorted. "No, they gave me a fucking medal for it. When all is said and done, the ones hiding and pissing their pants give out medals and act like they were the ones backing you the whole time."

John was about to comment on that when his phone rang. It cut sharply through the air. "Where is…" He listened for it.

"You dropped it near the bathroom when you came in," Harry said, going to retrieve it and handing it to John.

John flipped it open. He pressed the '6' twice and heard the responding beeps. "Hello," he said, watching Harry make his way to the couch, giving him space.

But John followed, sitting next to him on the couch. Harry had told him a lot. John trusted him and he didn't know how to say it.

"_Good, you're alive_," Mystique responded.

"You don't sound nearly happy enough, Stique," John commented. "I expect tears of joy from at least you."

"_I'm sure your friend Avalanche will give you a few tears. He was awfully worried about you. Must be because he hasn't gotten into your pants yet._"

"Not my type," John wrinkled his nose. "Was there something you wanted besides making sure I'm alive."

"_Magneto wants to see you_."

"Joy," John breathed out. He hadn't seen the man for a few months. He didn't exactly feel like seeing him now. "I'll be over in twenty."

Mystique didn't respond, only hung up.

"Gotta go," John told Harry.

"So I hear," Harry said. It was easy to see the worry now. "Are you sure you're up to it? Should they really be sending you anywhere with a hole in your side anyway?"

"Right now he just wants to see me," John told him, looking around for his coat.

"I had to get rid of your jacket," Harry said, getting up. "It was drenched in blood. Take one of mine." It wasn't much of a selection. Harry owned only two coats. John grabbed the one he had been wearing that morning. It still smelled like Harry.

"Don't die, okay?" Harry said very quickly as John walked out the door.

"Haven't yet, have I?" John offered him a cocky smirk.

"It usually only takes once," Harry rolled his eyes. Clearly, he was still worried. John moved back from the door. He placed a hand on the back of Harry's head and pulled him in. He gave him a soft, rather chaste kiss.

"I'm not gonna die any time soon," John promised him quietly, but Harry didn't look impressed.

**PAGE BREAK**

As soon as Harry was sure John was gone, he pulled out his phone. He hesitated for only a moment, then dialed the number.

"_Bobby Drake_."

"Hey, it's me," Harry said with a sigh. "They called him in. I don't know what for." Bobby didn't say anything. That wasn't the information he was necessarily waiting for. "He took the call right in front of me. I mean, I gave him his space like I usually did and he followed. This might work." Even to his own ears, he didn't sound happy about it.

"_Harry, that's a good thing,_" Bobby told him. "_It means he trusts you_."

"Yeah," Harry responded roughly. "Just in time for me to betray him."

"_You're not betraying him_."

"If you know him as well as you claim to, you should know he's not going to see it like that," Harry said, almost calmly. "I'm going to lose him. That's okay I guess. For his own good or something like that, right?"

Bobby didn't say anything for a moment. Then: "_Listen, Harry. If you ever just need to talk, call me. I'm…you have no idea how grateful I am for your help. I just want my best friend back_."

"You need to be realistic," Harry informed him. "This might not end the way you want it, too. You may not get him back. The world's not split into Brotherhood and X-Men."

"_Maybe not, but we can always hope_."

"That's ridiculous," Harry said with a sigh. "Hoping will only leave you disappointed."

"_No wonder the two of you found each other. You both have the same sunny disposition_."

Harry couldn't help a small smile. Bobby Drake really wasn't that bad.

**PAGE BREAK**

John entered without knocking. "You wanted to see me?" he asked as his eyes landed on Magneto who sat behind his large, somewhat ridiculous, iron desk.

"Yes, Pyro, come in," Magneto's eyes followed him to the seat. John reclined, pulling out his lighter. Magneto eyed it distastefully. "How are you after last night's botched mission?"

"Don't get on me about that," John said. "The mission, the planning—or lack thereof—was all Mystique."

"How charming of you to so readily pass the blame," Magneto commented.

"The truth's the truth," John shrugged.

"Clearly," Magneto eyed him. "You, however, have not answered the question."

"A little shot," John informed him. "But I'm stitched up and have plenty of drugs." He pulled the bottle out of his jacket and shook it pointedly. "Now what do you want?"

"Ever to the point," Magneto offered him a smile. John only watched. Magneto and he did not see each other much lately, a pattern he would rather continue. "I have a mission for you, my boy. Extended cover."

"Make Mystique do it," John replied automatically. "That's her thing."

"I want you to do it."

"Well, the answer is no," John said just as quickly. "I don't want to do extended cover. And I'm not gonna."

Magneto studied him carefully. "I hope this doesn't have anything to do with where you've been disappearing off to so often."

"I'm not disappearing," John said, careful not to give anything away. His body already got a little tenser, worried that Magneto knew. "I've always answered my calls. Besides it's not any of your business if I go out and blow off some steam."

"Hmm," Magneto commented lightly. "You see I believe it _is_ my business. Last time we let you blow off some steam, as you put it, you ruined a mission and nearly got us all caught."

"I didn't ruin any mission," John sneered. "We found the mutant—"

"No thanks to you."

John glared. "I did as told, didn't I? You wanted me to get close, I got close. Did I almost blow our cover? Yeah, once in how many missions. But it's not like we almost got lynched. We got out of England not only unharmed but unpursued. So back off."

"Perhaps I'm willing to give you a bit of leash," Magneto told him.

"I'm not a dog," John snapped.

Magneto offered a trademark patronizing look. "As I was saying, I may be willing, but Mystique certainly isn't."

John froze. "Where's Mystique?"

Magneto smiled and it chilled John. "Investigating."

**PAGE BREAK**

John wasn't gone long when there was a knock on the door.

"One moment," Harry called, shoving the newspaper away. He was never going to read what Hermione wanted him to see. He opened the door to see John standing there. Harry looked at him oddly as John just looked at him expressionlessly. "You just left," he said. "And where are your keys?"

"Can't find them," John shrugged. "You gonna let me in?"

Harry stood aside. He watched John carefully as he came in. Something was off. Not so much in his motions, but something bigger. "Didn't Magneto want to see you?" Harry asked.

John's eyebrows rose. "Awfully curious, aren't you?" He offered a smirk. "I didn't get far. Figured he could wait. I have better things to do."

John pulled Harry into him and kissed him. Harry returned the kiss for a moment but even this felt wrong. He let his hands wander, pushing against John's injured side. Nothing.

Harry pushed John roughly away. "You're not John," Harry said, voice cold.

'John' began to laugh and then he began to shift. Soon he was a blue woman with red hair. Mystique. He had never seen her in her true form.

"Hello, Harry. You remember me?" she asked, grin wide across her face.

"Never had the pleasure of truly meeting you," Harry commented, crossing his arms across his chest. "What do you want?"

Her eyes traveled across the room then landed on the empty coffee cup on the counter. "Me? I was just investigating. Looking into where our little Pyro was getting off to. I figured it would lead me to _who_ was getting him off, really. That's Pyro, for us." She shook her head mockingly. "I certainly didn't expect you, Harry." Though her mouth was smiling, her eyes were cold. "Maybe I should've. Again Pyro's straying comes down to you."

Harry watched her, careful to keep significant distance between them. She was only dangerous if she got close. He uncrossed his arms, knowing he might need his wand if she chose to attack. He wouldn't best her hand to hand.

"John makes his own choices," Harry said. "I don't lead him astray. I don't involve myself."

"You knew he was off to see Magneto," Mystique pointed out.

"That's all I ever know," Harry told her. "I don't want to know and he doesn't want to tell me."

"Aw," her face scrunched up in mock sympathy. "I'm sure that's not true. I'm sure that's all he really wants to do, is tell you. He's breaking all the rules, you see. All his rules."

Harry didn't say anything, only watched her as she walked around the room, taking things in. Her eyes came back to him. "It's funny," she commented, her head tilting to the side. "You don't seem to fear me."

It was true. Harry had seen true evil. Besides, he knew he could take her if it came down to it. He really hoped it didn't. John didn't even know he was a wizard. He didn't need the Brotherhood knowing.

So Harry shrugged. "To fear you, I have to fear whatever you can do to me. I don't."

"How interesting," Mystique said, truly seeming to become more interested. She took a step closer to him, eyes piercing his. He took a cautionary step back. "You're very cautious for someone who claims not to fear me."

Harry kept her gaze, unimpressed. He was on edge, though, senses on high alert, ready to fight. It had been a long time. Still, he was ready. "Doesn't mean I won't go down without a fight," Harry told her, trying to sound nonchalant. "So you found us out. What do you want?"

"To understand," Mystique said curiously. "Maybe it's the sex. I thought I'd try it for myself but you figured me out. Very good, by the way. You must know Pyro very well."

"I have good instincts," he replied. "Plus, I'd assume most people who were recently shot will at least flinch when someone touches the wound. Very messy of you."

"I forgot about the gunshot," Mystique said, for some strange reason sounding pleased. "That _is_ very good. Quick thinking. Still you were already suspicious…" She grinned. "Pyro's fascination with you may not be completely unfounded. Unusual for a human aren't you?"

"Not so unusual," Harry told her. The only plan he had right now was to keep talking. He didn't want to attack. No reason to reveal what he was if he didn't need to. What else could he do?

Mystique was still grinning. "Unusual enough. Only one other boy ever held Pyro's attention like you do." Harry couldn't help but react. He was a little confused, a little interested and unable to cover both emotions. Mystique looked as if she found her prey. "Yes, Bobby Drake—Iceman. Pyro's former best friend. Very close, I've heard. Poor boy was left broken hearted. Pyro I mean."

"I didn't know John knew Iceman," Harry said, recovering on the outside. Inwardly, hurt and confusion boiled up. Bobby Drake and John? Is that what Bobby had meant by wanting John back? Had Harry been played?

"So he really doesn't tell you everything," Mystique said, extremely pleased with herself now. She approached Harry, arm reaching for him. Harry's hand had wandered towards his wand, ready to attack, but Mystique only stroked his face. "Did he tell you that you were the only one? Did he—"

But Mystique was interrupted by the door flying open. Harry saw a flare of light and Mystique was roughly pulled away from him. John was there, eyes blazing, face screwed up in fury and flame encompassing his hand. Mystique laughed as John pushed her across the room.

"Get the fuck away from him," John growled.

"We were just talking," Mystique chuckled. She looked past John to him. "Weren't we Harry?"

"Leave," John snapped. "This is none of your business." Harry was transfixed. He didn't move. Just watched what was going on in front of him.

"It's all my business, Pyro," Mystique said, eyes reaching new intensities as she focused on him. "You are and will always be Brotherhood business."

"My loyalties haven't changed," John sneered. "I'm still working for the mission. Magneto doesn't _care_ what I do on my free time. Why should you?"

"Because he doesn't know you as well as I do," Mystique snapped. Harry was amazed by the amount of anger in her voice. This was personal for her. "I thought we were the same, you and I. You were my brother in arms. A traitor to Charles' cause like me. But no. You're weak. Still his student. Taking his call to love humans a little literally aren't you?"

"Get out of here, Mystique," John said, voice growing quiet but not losing its intensity. He truly was something to behold. Powerful in his anger. "We're not brothers in arms. You don't trust me. I don't trust you. And if you ever come within seeing range of Harry again, I will not hesitate to kill you."

"You choose him over us?" Mystique asked, taking a step towards John, glare getting stronger. Her voice, however, seemed incredulous.

"No," John said. "I don't have to choose."

Mystique laughed. It was harsh, bitter. "We all have to choose. I did. Charles and Erik, they made me." She nodded towards Harry. "Your boy will too one day."

"No," John replied slowly. "He won't." Harry felt his stomach tie itself in knots. He never knew he could feel so guilty.

"Never figured you for a fool so easily blinded by love," Mystique said, anger going out of her. She seemed almost shocked. "I'll leave him alone. We'll see just how well you know him, won't we?" And she left, leaving the door open behind her.

John watched her leave, waiting for a few moments before very suddenly turning towards Harry. "Did she hurt you?" he asked, as he quickly began checking Harry over.

Harry shook him off. "I'm fine. She was right. We were just talking."

"About what?" John sounded incredulous.

"She was surprised to see me," Harry shrugged. "Then I think she was thrown off by the fact that she didn't scare me."

"She used to scare the fuck out of me," John breathed out in a laugh, his eyes evaluating Harry. "Fuck, Harry, you're something else."

"I'm really not," Harry said, letting John pull him towards him so that their foreheads were leaning against each other's. Harry closed his eyes, feeling the guilt engulf him for a moment. "I'm really, really not."


	15. Change of Plans

_The Boy Next Door_

Part II

New Summary: Fifteen months after the events of Part I finds Harry Potter post-war. While victorious, Harry can't seem to get things back to normal and he soon becomes obsessed with confronting Pyro. Upon meeting him again, things don't go as expected, at least not how Harry consciously expected things to turn out. Harry soon finds himself in the middle of a mutant conflict and, for once, his role as the Chosen One, even a wizard, is not to blame.

Pairing: Slash. Harry/Pyro

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or the X-Men. J.K. Rowling, Marvel, and others have that honor.

Spoilers: HP 1-6. AU for summer of HP7. X1-3, First Class.

Warnings: Slash (not too explicit). Strong Language. Adult Concepts. Sexual Content. Violence/Abuse.

A.N. So for inspiration I re-read parts of Mutant Son because, unfortunately, I'm not feeling this story as much as I did my other one. Hopefully, this will put me on the right track. Again, I don't do sex scenes! But I'll tease one.

**Chapter 15: Change of Plans**

Harry and John sat apart on the couch with Harry not meeting his eyes. John thought everything was okay. It really had seemed like it but minutes after Mystique left, Harry had withdrawn from him, his body tense as if angry.

"Look it won't happen again," John broke into the silence. "I'll make sure Magneto gives the order to leave you alone. You won't be dragged into this."

Harry snorted. "I'm not worried about that," he said dryly. "The Brotherhood doesn't scare me." John just watched him. What else could be wrong then? Harry finally looked up. "It's not that, John. Mystique said some things," Harry said, with a small but tense shrug. "It really shouldn't bother me."

"What she say?" John asked carefully. There was any number of things that Mystique could've said about him that Harry didn't know about it. Colorful probably wasn't really the right word for his past, perhaps dark.

"It's not a big deal," Harry said again, but he couldn't seem to convince himself.

"Harry," John repeated. "What did she say?"

Harry looked at him. "It was just something about Iceman. Nothing really," Harry insisted. It seemed as if Harry really wanted that to be true. There were only so many things Mystique could've said about Bobby. What would she figure would hurt Harry the most? What had a shade of truth to it? It really was a no brainer.

"She say I had a thing for Iceman?" John asked, with a roll of his eyes.

That really caught Harry's attention. He peered closely at John. "You don't? I mean didn't?"

For the first time in a long time, Harry looked a bit like that unsure kid that John encountered every once in awhile on Privet Drive. Those expressive green eyes were looking for the truth, but not really. He was looking for comfort. And John knew that the truth was rarely comforting.

"No," John said with a small smile. "We were friends. But we haven't been in a long time."

"Friends," Harry repeated.

John figured he had to add a bit more truth. "I was at Xavier's School for a few years when I was younger. Bobby and I were sort of inseparable. Probably for the large part because he was my glorified babysitter. I never fit in at Xavier's. Bobby couldn't change that."

"You don't like watching him on the telly," Harry said. "I mean I've seen you. You tell me to turn the channel. I thought it was because you hated the X-Men but…" He trailed off.

"I do," John said. They had failed him. They promised to care but they hadn't. He never belonged with them. "They're the enemy, Harry. It's Brotherhood vs. X-Men and it always will be."

"And it has nothing to do with Iceman," Harry called him out.

"Yeah, well, I hate him most of all," John said. "Don't ask me why. I probably wouldn't be able to tell you. I especially hate the way the X-Men placed him as their spokesperson. Nice normal Bobby, smiling for the cameras," John sneered this last part.

Harry nodded thoughtfully. "It shouldn't bother me anyway," he repeated again. "It really shouldn't."

"It would bother me," John told him. "If it were you, I mean. Knowing you have even one ex-girlfriend bothers me. I don't like sharing." John got up to get a beer, to give himself a moment to think about how to word this. Even if he wanted to. He cracked the beer open, not bothering with even offering Harry one. Harry didn't like beer. Other stuff sure, but not beer. He decided to plunge in, anything to get the topic off of Bobby. "Not to mention the fact that you came back to me a hell of a lot more experienced than when I left." Sure there were benefits to Harry knowing what he was doing, but not so oddly enough, the fact that other people even got to touch Harry bothered him.

Harry eyed him before shrugging. "Nothing to be jealous about. Your track record has to be at least ten times longer."

It wasn't the same though. Harry had been only his for a little while. Not surprisingly he had liked the idea of that. There were other matters too. "I never had a girlfriend though. Or boyfriend, for that matter."

"Ginny was…" Harry sighed. "I did have some major feelings for her at one point. I did." John drank his beer just to be able to do something. "They just didn't last long. We could've picked up where we left off but we weren't the same people anymore. I wasn't the same person anymore. Nowadays I'm more than some troubled teenage boy. I'm damaged goods and Ginny is too…too well-adjusted, even after everything." Harry looked at John. "So when it comes to Ginny, you know the state of things. She was a high school girlfriend. That's it. As for this Iceman thing…"

"Bobby's straight," John said before Harry could continue. "It's a non-issue."

Harry looked at him before nodding reluctantly. "Okay." John could see his decision to move past it. "So…what's Mystique's deal? That was beyond personal. Did you two ever…" Harry made a vague motion with his hands.

"It's not about that," John said rolling his eyes. "Stique and I…after a couple of tough months she really accepted me. We were," John made a face.

"Brothers in arms?" Harry repeated her words from earlier.

"Not really," John said, unable to really express it himself. "I mean, when she got cured I walked away from her, same as Magneto. Like I said, it's complicated. We got each other, at least at some point. Not so much anymore. Since last summer, she's been on my case."

"Since me," Harry suggested.

"I don't know why she took it so personally," John commented, remembering his beer. After one more drink he abandoned it. He didn't really want it. Harry was watching him carefully.

"What exactly did she take personally?" Harry asked slowly. "Us?"

"Nah," John smirked. "I think my attraction to you amused her mostly. It was after your uncle that she got weird."

Harry nodded thoughtfully. "I think…" he trailed off, wetting his lips and looking away from John. "I mean, maybe it's more than what happened. Maybe it's why it happened."

John tilted his head curiously. "What do you mean?"

Harry sighed. "John, why did you try to save me? Why kill my uncle? Seriously this time. I don't want to hear crap about possessiveness."

John was going to say that was exactly what it had been about. He was going to say that Vernon Dursely was just a replacement for his father. He was going to say all those things he said to himself the past year to explain his behavior. "I wasn't going to let him hurt you," John said instead. "Like I've said: there's always been something about you."

"Why kill him, John? The job was already done," Harry said softly.

"I wasn't going to let you become a killer," John finally told him, what he had been denying all along. "You didn't deserve that."

"And Mystique had a feeling that was your motivation," Harry replied, taking pity on John and not directly addressing the connotations of what he had said. At least not yet. "My guess is, Brotherhood isn't supposed to care. Especially not about a human."

John eyed Harry. "Where are you going with this, Harry?" He was trying to tell John something without having to say it and John wasn't feeling particularly receptive.

"I'm not telling you to leave them. I'm not," Harry insisted. "It's not up to me. All I'm saying is that maybe Mystique recognized something that night that I've known all along. You're a good guy but you're standing in your own way, so convinced you're something inherently bad. You don't belong with the Brotherhood. Watching the news, it's getting less clear what they're actually fighting for. It seems like just killing now."

John didn't know what to say. He wanted to be angry but that wasn't the emotion he was actually feeling. It was like something was pushing against his insides and he had no idea what it was. He tried not to think about his misgivings about the Brotherhood, about the lowlife recruits that had been filtering in. "I have to belong there, Harry," John said. "I'm too good at it to not."

"Well, you're too good to me to belong with them," Harry told him. It was clear he was trying not to push him on it. Trying to say what he felt he needed to say without pushing John away. John could see the effort behind those words. And he wouldn't look at John, as if expecting to anger him.

"Yeah, well," John started, returning to his seat next to him. "Clearly I break all my rules for you." John sighed. "I don't think you really see who I am. I mean it's like I'm a different person around you."

"You're just John," Harry said, finally meeting his eyes. "Not Pyro."

"I'll always be Pyro, Harry," John got up and moved away again. "I belong with the Brotherhood. I just do." He looked around the room, resisting the urge to pull out his lighter. He had been getting so good at controlling himself. "I'm going to go shower, then change my bandages." He had almost forgotten about the bullet wound but it had begun to throb again. Harry just nodded, letting him go.

**PAGE BREAK**

Bobby hadn't expected Harry so soon. A couple of days after their last phone call, Harry already made it back to the school. This time he didn't come inside, only waited for him near the basketball courts.

"The Professor said you wanted to see me," Bobby said as he approached. Harry didn't look so great, clearly stressed out. His hands shoved deep in his pockets, he only glanced over at Bobby before returning to his shoes.

"Had a run in with Mystique the other day," Harry informed him.

Bobby quickly scanned his eyes over him. "Are you okay?" he asked, wondering if Harry had been injured.

"Yeah, John showed up," Harry said monotonously. "They had a little showdown. Neither of them knowing, of course, that I don't need John's protection."

"Neither of…" Bobby trailed off. "He doesn't know. John doesn't know who you are." He could only stare. He certainly hadn't expected that.

"Never planned on telling him," Harry admitted. "I always had my excuses, but now I've been lying to him for so long I wouldn't even know how to tell him. That's not the point though."

Bobby tried to focus in on what the point of the conversation could be about. He was still distracted by the fact that Harry was able to hide that much about himself from John. Like he was a normal human. "So what's the point?" Bobby asked when Harry didn't say anything.

"John lied to me," Harry said, looking down at his feet. "I mean I think he did. And it shouldn't matter except it kind of does. I need to know that I'm not being played."

"No offense, but that's kind of rich coming from someone who hasn't told their boyfriend this tremendous secret," Bobby said without thinking.

"I'm not playing John," Harry snapped. "Or rather I wasn't until you came along. The fact that I'm a wizard has no bearing on what we are."

"Harry, it kind of has everything to with what you two are," Bobby said, a little incredulous. "You can't run away from who you are. It's in everything about you." Harry snorted but didn't reply. Bobby sighed, giving up. Talking to him clearly wouldn't get him any further than talking to John had. "What's this about you getting played?"

"It's something Mystique said," Harry looked at Bobby.

"And Mystique's the model of honesty," Bobby said sarcastically.

Harry ignored him. "She said that I'm only the second one to have such a hold on John. That there was something between the two of you. That you broke his heart. It would explain why you're so eager to get him back."

Bobby stated. "What?" he spluttered out. "That's ridiculous. Johnny and I were friends. We were…" Bobby trailed off, remembering the little things. How he was the only one John ever listened to even a little bit. How John hated all of his girlfriends. All the fighting after Rogue showed up. That John had told him things, serious things about his past. Harry was staring at him. "I…I didn't know," Bobby said instead. He ran a hand through his hair. "I'm so completely stupid."

"You didn't know," Harry repeated carefully. "You two never…"

"No," Bobby said very quickly. "I love John but not like that. But him…that's what Rogue and Scott tried to tell me." Bobby sat himself down on the basketball court. After a moment, Harry followed suit.

"So you think Mystique wasn't lying? At least on his end?" Harry asked.

"Probably not. John was so jealous of Rogue," Bobby told him a bit distractedly. He had never thought he was that oblivious. "I thought it was just because he's kind of possessive, but if…does that mean him leaving was my fault?"

"I don't think so," Harry said slowly. "I mean, I didn't know him back then, obviously, but I doubt he would runaway and join the bad guys because of some sort of unrequited love. And he does know that they're the bad guys."

"I could've given him a reason to stay though," Bobby commented.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Yeah, because straight men regularly give up their own sexuality to make their gay friend happy." Bobby looked over at him. At some point, Harry had decided to comfort him.

"Okay, maybe that's a little ridiculous," Bobby admitted with a small smile.

"Just accept that it's not your fault," Harry told him. "Regardless of how he felt about you."

Bobby glanced over at him. "I'm sorry we put you in this position." For the first time, Bobby really realized what they were doing here, what Harry was risking. And it wasn't fair that Harry had to risk anything. He really was a good guy.

Harry shrugged with a tight smile. "I made my choice, didn't I? Maybe it's about time I stop running away from who I am. What's wrong is wrong. And the Brotherhood is wrong. I told John he didn't belong there."

"Yeah, and how did that go?" Bobby asked, expecting to hear about some big blow out.

"He just seemed kind of sad," Harry said, voice and face reflecting confusion. "He told me he was too good at it not to belong. That's all. Nothing about believing in it."

Bobby had to admit to being surprised. He thought John would at least claim to have a cause. It meant that both Harry and Bobby were right. John didn't belong. "That's good," Bobby finally said.

"Yeah, it is," Harry agreed, as he stood. "I'll call you."

Bobby watched him leave. His stomach turned as he realized that this may not turn out well for any of them. Harry could lose John. And Harry was right about the fact that John probably wouldn't come back to the X-Men. But Bobby wasn't in this for purely selfish reasons. He could handle not getting his friend back as long as he never had to be faced with the possibility of killing him in battle ever again. Pyro and Iceman weren't going to end in some epic showdown. And John wasn't going to get himself killed for a cause that no one in the Brotherhood seemed to even believe in anymore either. Bobby knew now that neither he nor Harry would let that happen.

**PAGE BREAK**

John grabbed the open computer. Most of the Brotherhood members were milling about headquarters. Besides Scarlet Witch, no one else was in the lab. He doubted many of the members actually knew how to operate a computer for something other than porn.

He opened up the internet and quickly typed in his search term. This was the first chance he was actually getting to look into this. "I haven't seen you in awhile," Scarlet Witch said out of nowhere. At least that's how it seemed. They rarely ever interacted.

"Hmmm," John grunted as he scanned the search results.

"Everyone's saying that you got yourself a human boyfriend," she continued. "That it's serious. They're questioning your loyalties."

John glanced over at her. She seemed fascinated which was odd. She only ever treated him with apathy. "Someone's always saying something, huh?" he replied uninterestedly.

"I guess," Scarlet Witch responded, going back to her computer. Mystique must've spread some version of the truth around. He wondered if it was just gossip or if it was going to be a big deal. "I just…it's kind of a relief that someone around here is…" she trailed off. "I guess human?" She didn't look at him.

It was bad phrasing considering where they were but John got what she meant. In fact, it made him look at her just a little differently. He always thought Wanda was too serious, the stick in the mud, but maybe she recognized the kind of people Magneto was now recruiting.

"The Brotherhood wasn't always like this," John told her. "We had a mission and we all believed in it."

Scarlet Witch's eyes lit up. "Not anymore though, right," she looked around very quickly as if someone may have suddenly come in. "It's like we're in some sort of criminal organization." John chose not to comment that technically it always was a criminal organization.

"Some of us still have the mission," John told her. "That has to be enough."

Scarlet Witch nodded. "Yeah, the mission." They exchanged glances.

John returned to his computer, looking at the search results now. Just some random people named Tom Riddle. He had no other details about the man. But didn't he?

He typed: _Tom Riddle. Potter murders. England. Harry._

A lot of useless links, then he found something. There was no mention of Tom Riddle but…

_This page is in memory to Lily and James Potter, ruthlessly murdered by He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. In these dark times, when in the world that has become our own we cannot express our true allegiances, this page has been made in support of Harry Potter. Wherever he is, we wish him luck in his fight against the dark lord. Sign this page in support of the Boy-Who-Lived and in respect for the parents who protected him with their lives. _

Was this it? Many people seemed to have signed the webpage, starting from when it was created last September. John checked the activity. It seemed to trail off this past June for a while, but now it was as active as ever. John read some of the comments from the last few days.

_-Where is Harry Potter?_

_-We need Harry Potter._

_-Down with the Ministry. Long live Harry Potter._

_-You idiots, he's gone. _

_-Harry Potter has abandoned [us: edited for legal purposes by page administrators]._

"What the fuck?" John muttered out loud.

"What?" Wanda asked.

"Nothing," John said, closing out of the window. It was too strange. Harry admitted he wasn't telling the whole story to him. That he had reasons not to. But John certainly didn't expect something like this. What was going on? "I have to go."

Harry was involved in something huge. Who needed Harry Potter? Down with the Ministry? He needed to think.

But over the next few days, John hadn't said anything to Harry. What could he say? He wasn't even sure if he should say anything. Maybe what Harry was involved in wasn't any of his business. It was the past. John certainly hadn't shared everything about his past, not all the things he did for the Brotherhood or even before then. Why open that can of worms? Still, he wasn't sure if he wanted to let it go.

So that made for a few strained nights. Harry kept looking like he wanted to say something but he quickly dropped it. He probably that John was mad at him or something. But if John was mad, he would've just left. No, John was just confused.

That's why he was grateful to be back to the job. He finally had something to do that didn't involve any extended missions. It was another simple retrieval job, this time at the private home of some researcher.

John had Multiple Man monitor the perimeter. The guy got on his nerves but at least John knew he was qualified for the job. One of Magneto's more recent recruits stuck by John's side. He didn't trust him enough to let him off on his own and, if it was up to him, he wouldn't have brought him along. Not to mention the guy was beyond large—named Blob of all things—and definitely not suitable for a reconnaissance mission. But Magneto had insisted.

John placed the cover back on the security system once he was done. "System's down," he informed Multiple Man over the com. "Enter through the cellar. Check everything." John glanced at Blob. "Can you even fit through a fucking window?"

"Why don't you go in through the window, kid, and unlock the door for me," Blob said. Even his voiced sounded weighty.

John rolled his eyes. "Back door," he told him.

Things went pretty well for a time. It was a good thing the family was out, otherwise Blob's footsteps wouldn't make too well for stealth. They were finding shit in terms of research though. Even the computer seemed to be non-work related. John had just finished closing a book report on some book called _Amelia Bedelia _when headlights streamed in through the windows.

"Shit," John muttered, looking around for Multiple Man and Blob who had gone their separate ways. "Evac now," he hissed into the com. He was heading back to the window he entered through when he spotted Multiple Man. In wait at the front door. Blob wasn't too far from him. "What are you doing? Out now." His eyes flew towards the door as he heard a car door shut. Neither Multiple Man nor Blob made a move.

The rest happened very quickly. He was going to just leave them but something told him something was off and he hesitated a little too long. When the front door opened, one of Multiple Man's clones lunged at the same time, grabbing not only the man entering, but the woman and the little girl. He threw them against the wall, ignoring their screams, pulling out a gun. Blob flanked him.

"Take what you want," the scared middle-aged man said very quickly. His wife, the researcher they were investigating, couldn't tear her eyes off the gun.

Neither Multiple Man nor Blob said anything. The girl's eyes were wide in fear.

"It's time to go. Now," John said stepping forward. They didn't move. He stepped in between his men and the family, facing the researcher. "Dr. Brown," he said, eying her.

"Wh—who are you?" she said, brown eyes moving past his shoulder. He couldn't blame her. Not knowing who he was, he certainly wasn't as intimidating as the others.

"I've been following your research," John said distastefully. The only people who should study mutants were mutants. "The cause behind mutation. Fascinating."

"I haven't published anything," she told him quietly.

"Eh, I've broken into enough of your labs this past year," John shrugged. "A little light reading." He took a step towards her. "Enquiring minds want to know though, whose behind the research."

"It's a NSF grant," she said, voice shaking. "It's for science." She looked behind John. "Just science. I don't mean you any harm."

"So you do know who we are," Multiple Man spat out.

"Brotherhood," Dr. Brown whispered.

"That's right," John said with a smirk. "And we're keeping an eye on you." He turned back to Multiple Man. "Let's go." But again they didn't move, completely focused on Dr. Brown.

John flicked his igniter and called the flame to him. "Have you forgotten how to follow orders?" He heard someone behind him whimper.

"No, I remember just fine." Still Multiple Man didn't look at him. He pulled back the safety on the gun. John acted quickly. This wasn't supposed to be a kill mission. He aimed at the gun, heating it quickly and catching a bit of Multiple Man's hand. He hissed, quickly dropping the gun. But John had forgotten about his clone and he was thrown a couple of feet away.

He recovered in time to see it. Blob seized the woman by her head, slamming it with superforce against the wall. Her husband and daughter screamed as her head made a sick crack. John stared at the crumpled body. The daughter's screams wouldn't stop and Blob made a move towards her.

John used his entire control to put a wall of fire up in the small space between the girl and Blob. "Back down," he ordered, venom in his voice. He walked purposively towards the two mutants, not hesitating to burn Multiple Man's clone. Multiple Man gave a small scream before ending the clone and glaring over at John. "That's enough." John felt the fire in him. Telling him to let everything burn. But he held back.

"We were taking out the enemy," Blob said, finally showing some hesitancy. The girl was still screaming. "Someone's going to call the cops. We should get rid of this."

"The order is to stand down, both of you," he spat out. "The researcher is dead. You got what you wanted." No matter how sick it was. They didn't even know whether she was the enemy.

"Come on," Blob grinned. "They're just a bunch of humans."

John glanced at him in disgust. "We're supposed to be the better species," John sneered. "Right now all I see is two miscreants. You don't start following orders and it's you whose gonna be just a bunch of mutant barbecue."

"Fine, fine," Multiple Man said, clearly amused. "Have it your way." He cradled his burnt hand.

"Leave," John nodded towards the door. Blob and Multiple Man looked at him one last time before finally following their orders. John let the wall of fire fall. The girl was getting hysterical and John could hear sirens in the distance. He looked down on the father trying desperately to quiet his daughter down. "Get her away from the body," John said, voice carefully neutral.

"Maybe she's alive," the man worked out. John kneeled down near the body, feeling for a pulse. He only felt warm blood trickling down from the head trauma, nothing beating against the pulse point. John looked at the man. Then at his daughter. The sirens grew closer.

"This wasn't supposed to happen," John told them, eyes fixed on the daughter. He couldn't fix this. So he did the only thing he could. He turned and left, taking off into the woods behind the house and running. He just kept running, not bothering to head towards the exit vehicle. He couldn't, not with them in the same vehicle. Just not with them.

**PAGE BREAK**

It had been a rough few days. Things just stayed awkward after the incident with Mystique and Harry didn't quite know what to do about that. So he just let it be. Harry was good at stuff like that. And now, well now Harry could only focus in on the television in front of him.

Harry didn't turn around when he heard the keys in the door. Or when he heard John come in. Details were still coming in on the latest Brotherhood attack.

"—brutally murdered in her own home. All anyone knows at this point is that the Brotherhood was involved."

"Can you shut that off?" John asked from behind him. Harry paid no attention to him, watching as the police escorted the little girl and her father to an ambulance. "Harry, shut it off." But Harry couldn't. "Shut the fucking thing off!" It was the first time Harry ever heard John raise his voice. He turned to look at John just as John hurled a half-full beer bottle Harry had never bothered cleaning up at the television. The bottle broke against the television and Harry quickly switched it off, whirling around to look at him again.

"What's your bloody problem!" Harry snapped as he stood. That was when he really saw John. There was a small smear of blood across his forehead and his hair and clothes were disheveled. Harry's eyes were drawn to the blood. No cut, no gash. It wasn't his. "You were there," Harry said, quietly. He took a step towards John. "You were there?" His voice, his stance, everything was accusing, but he couldn't help it. This was senseless murder.

"Yeah, yeah, I was there," John said, staring at the off television. Something was off about his voice.

"You did that?" Harry asked harshly. "In front of her daughter?"

"No," John said, eyes speeding back towards Harry. "I didn't _do_ that. I don't…" He trailed off, a hand running through his hair. "I don't know how—that wasn't supposed to happen. We were only there to look around." And he sounded so completely lost that Harry's stance softened. He started to really take in John's appearance. The paleness, the way his eyebrows were scrunched down in confusion. "I tried to stop them," John said, not completely to Harry. "They were going to attack the little girl, too."

Harry took a step towards him. John watched him warily. "It's okay," Harry said, feeling stupid. It certainly wasn't okay, but John was just so at a loss.

"This isn't what the Brotherhood is about," John insisted towards Harry. "Yeah, we kill but…not like that."

"I know, Johnny. I know," Harry placed a hand on John's elbow. John slowly relaxed.

"This isn't what the Brotherhood is about," John said again. "It's not."

Harry didn't say anything this time, just pulled John in. They stood there for a moment, Harry's mouth poised near John's ear, but he couldn't figure out what to say. What could he say? "Just…" Harry tried. "Just come to bed."

And John let him lead him. John somehow managed to kick of his boots but neither of them bothered to undress as they climbed into bed, trying not to break contact. They lay there, entwined in bed. "If this is what the Brotherhood's about, I don't want to be part of it," John told him quietly.

Again Harry didn't say anything, just place a kiss on the top of John's head. He couldn't even feel the victory that those words should've meant. He had never seen John hurting before. And he didn't like it.

**PAGE BREAK**

Mystique watched Magneto carefully, wondering what his plan was. There was a time when he shared everything with her, but that time was gone. There was no Erik anymore, only Magneto. Normally, Mystique didn't put much stock in such differentiations. Raven and Mystique was the same person, but only Mystique was her true name. Lately, however, she had come to understand the connotations two names could come to mean. Erik had become lost completely to the mission. Now Magneto, cold and as unyielding as the strongest of the metal he controlled, was so very different from the man she had met all those years ago.

And Mystique couldn't read this new man. She didn't know whether what Multiple Man and Blob had done was part of the plan. She didn't know what purpose such a plan would even serve. She just didn't know.

"He didn't come back last night," Mystique finally spoke up after what seemed like hours of silence.

"I know," Magneto responded, barely looking up from whatever it was that he was reviewing. Of course Mystique knew that he knew. She just wondered whether he had really considered what it meant.

"We might lose him," Mystique went on when he said nothing else.

"We won't," Magneto told her without hesitation.

"You don't know that. He's pulling away," Mystique continued. "And you know what that could mean. He knows everything. He knows our protocol, where we keep our money, our safehouses. Everything." Still no reaction. "And unlike me, he would very well run off to his old friends and tell them _everything_."

Magneto finally looked up. "We survived your betrayal, my dear. We could very easily survive his betrayal. You overestimate the boy."

"Then why do you put so much stock into holding on to him?" Mystique asked, not believing him for a second.

"I don't."

"Then explain last su—"

"Last summer was a different matter," Magneto told her patiently. "Pyro is no longer the asset he was. For a while, it looked as if he would continue being one of our strongest weapons, but he has strayed…again. And a traitor can never be trusted."

"Traitor?" Mystique asked. She wasn't sure if she would call him that. At least not yet.

"He has before betrayed another's cause, has he not?" Magneto reminded her. "And for that, he can never be trusted."

Mystique stared at him. "What is it that you're even saying? You don't think we'll lose him, but he can't be trusted. You're invested in him, but don't value him as a weapon. Do you even know what you think?"

Magneto leveled her with a look he usually reserved the more tiresome Brotherhood recruits. She met that look unwaveringly, challenging him to treat her like one of them. "I never said I don't value him as a weapon. But only as a weapon. It seems you were right. Too much of Charles' teaching is in him." He looked back at his work. "It's a shame really. He had such potential."

They sat in silence again, Mystique contemplating his words. So Pyro's days as her only rival to Magneto's trust and esteem were over. And just how poetic was it that as Erik became lost to Magneto, Pyro was becoming lost to John. But could Pyro have been an act all along? Or perhaps never have existed as Magneto and Mystique had known him, all along being only an angry runaway?

A knock on the door interrupted her train of though. "Come in," Magneto ordered.

The door opened and Quicksilver peeked in. "Pyro is back," he told his father.

"Let him in once he gets here," Magneto said, setting his work aside and standing. Only a minute later, the door opened again, this time letting in Pyro.

He shut the door behind him. Not bothering to glance at Mystique, his eyes met Magneto's. Pyro's body was tense but, in contrast, Magneto was relaxed, waiting for him to say something.

"Is this what the Brotherhood's going to be like from now on?" Pyro finally asked. As usual, his restlessness got the better of him.

"Multiple Man and Blob have been reprimanded," Magneto informed him. Mystique's eyes flew towards him. This was certainly news to her. "And to be clear…not for their actions but for disobeying orders. Mine and yours."

"Not for their actions," Pyro repeated. "Their actions were pointless! What did they accomplish except to make us a spectacle on TV?"

"It is no matter to me whether a human is killed," Magneto told him reproachfully. "But you are right. The woman's death was pointless. That is why I did not order it."

Pyro looked at him, perhaps trying to evaluate whether it was the truth. Mystique certainly couldn't. "I won't kill for nothing," Pyro finally said. "And I won't work with people who do. These new recruits…" he trailed off taking a step towards Magneto. "What are you thinking? They're nothing more than criminals. They don't _care_ about the mission. This is just a convenient way for them to be shit human beings…shit mutants."

"They are pawns, Pyro," Magneto said and if he was anyone else, he would probably roll his eyes. "As long as they follow orders and serve the mission, I do not care what their motives are."

"You can't expect me to work with them."

Magneto raised his eyebrows. "I can't? Who _will_ you work with?" He peered at Pyro. "You certainly wouldn't leave the Brotherhood." Pyro didn't say anything and a tolerating smile appeared on Magneto's face. "Where would you go, John? Back to the X-Men? You know you do not belong there. Clearly, they never even wanted you." Still Pyro didn't say anything and Magneto shook his head. "You, my boy, are Brotherhood through and through. How can you not be when you are so good at what you do? What else can you do?" Magneto approached Pyro and placed a hand on his shoulder. "With the exception of Mystique, I have never met anyone so well suited for this life. You were born for this. I certainly believe it. The things you have done for this cause. Spectacular. The lows you have dropped yourself to for this mission…yes, you belong here, don't you see? It's in your very bones."

Mystique watched Pyro throughout Magneto's little speech. She saw how his shoulders sank ever so slightly. How he didn't look at Magneto as he spoke. She understood now why Magneto knew Pyro wouldn't leave them. Because Magneto knew how to strike at every single one of Pyro's—no John's—weak points. And she remembered some of the jobs over the years, jobs that she could've done herself but Magneto sent Pyro out on. Designed perhaps for Pyro to feel as if there was no way out. Nowhere to go.

"I am Brotherhood," Pyro said, finally looking up and meeting Magneto's eyes. For some strange reason, Mystique's stomach sank. Pyro gestured at the door with his head. "Them though? They don't belong here."

Magneto just looked at him. "What have they done that you haven't?" He seemed surprised, but Mystique knew Magneto well enough to know it was an act.

"I never killed for no reason," Pyro snapped at him. It was in moments like this that Mystique thought she could actually see fire run in his veins. But his fire didn't suit Magneto anymore, not when it was pointed in the wrong direction.

Magneto met his eyes surely. "Maybe not," he said. "But you certainly take pleasure in it. I am sure Vernon Dursley would agree. If you hadn't decimated him, of course, for your own personal goals."

"I was protecting Harry," Pyro responded, but he seemed unsure, the fire in his veins shining less brightly.

"So you didn't enjoy it?" Magneto pretended to ask.

Pyro stared at him. There was silence for a moment, only a short moment. "You know I did," Pyro said, looking away. But he wasn't proud. He wasn't sure. In that moment the fire went out. Mystique could only guess what was going on in that head of his. She didn't like what she guessed. Her anger at him seemed to go out as resolutely as his fire.

When John finally left, Mystique turned to Magneto. "You ordered Multiple Man and Blob to kill that human, didn't you?"

Magneto looked at her, as if surprised she even asked. "Of course I did."

"Why?" Mystique asked. Even she couldn't see the point in that woman's death. While it didn't bother her as it did John, she felt as if it wasn't even worth the effort.

"To put Pyro back in his place," Magneto said, that cold steel in his eyes. "And, of course, to start a war."

**PAGE BREAK**

John had snuck out while Harry was asleep. Harry didn't know how long he was gone but every minute felt like hours. He knew John had gone back to the Brotherhood but he couldn't even imagine why. He thought about calling Bobby, but what could Bobby do? Maybe track him down, but what would the use of that be?

Needless to say, when John finally came back, Harry was ready to jump him. And he wasn't sure whether he wanted to kiss him or punch him. To be safe, he stayed back, waiting to see what John had to say.

John sat down on the couch and turned the TV on. Harry stared, waiting for something, anything. John seemed tired, withdrawn, and all together distant, but there was no sign of that vulnerable John from the night before.

"Wanda thinks we're gonna take a break while things cool down," John said. He turned to Harry. He raised his eyebrows. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Because you're acting like nothing happened," Harry said as if John was a little slow.

John shrugged, turning back to the TV. "I was upset. Got a chance to calm down."

"Calm down?" Harry asked incredulously. He grabbed the remote and switched the TV off. Even the background noise was getting to him right now. "Some woman was murdered in front of her daughter last night. For no apparent reason. And you calmed down? What happened to not wanting to be part of the Brotherhood anymore?"

"Collateral damage happens," John brushed him off, getting up and going for a beer. He took drank some down while Harry continued to stare at him. Collateral damage? He felt disgusted. John called this collateral damage? Maybe Harry had been wrong all along in his belief that Pyro wasn't the real John. John put his beer down. He looked at Harry. "I'm not happy about what went down, but leave the Brotherhood? Where would I go?"

"Anywhere. With me," Harry said, wondering if that was the issue. That he didn't know how to leave the Brotherhood.

"Running doesn't solve anything," John said, shaking his head. "You can run, but you're always going to be there. I've run before, Harry. Twice. And the problems followed. I've run enough times that I know the problem isn't my dad. It's not the X-Men. It's me." John looked up from his beer, directly at Harry. "The Brotherhood is the only place I've ever belonged. I _told_ you. I'm good at what I do."

"You're good at other things, too," Harry told him, unable to tear his eyes away from John. He couldn't understand. He couldn't even read John right now. "I know it sounds stupid, but we're good together. You forget. I've run too. And running? It gave me everything. It gave me you."

John was quiet for a moment. "I'm not yours to have, Harry," John said, but he wasn't being mean. That much Harry could tell. It didn't make the words hurt any less. "I've been with a lot of people. More than you can ever know. For more reasons than you'll ever know. And that's the least of the things I've done. I kill, Harry."

"You're a soldier," Harry said automatically.

John smiled but it was sad. "I know you don't believe that, Harry. You don't believe in this cause. You don't think there's anything good about the Brotherhood." And he was right. Harry knew John wasn't a soldier, but Harry had always thought that was how John might view things. But maybe he was kidding himself. John always claimed to be the bad guy. Still, though, Harry didn't think that was true. John was confused. A confused kid, really. "Harry, you've killed because you needed to. Me? I enjoy it. I get this sick rush from it. Magneto's right. I _am_ Brotherhood. And I'm no different than any of them." John sighed. "The only question is whether you can accept that. Whether you can, for the first time, really accept who I am and still want me to be yours."

Harry looked away, his stomach tied in knots. "I'll always want you to be mine. Always have. Even when I thought you played me. Even when I first found out who you really were." Harry looked back at John, whose eyes were so steadily fixed on him. "I don't give a fuck who you are. I want you. So what kind of person does that make me? Am I the person you think I am?"

"I stopped thinking you were some innocent boy next door a long time ago," John told him with a small smile. "Besides, I always knew I'd corrupt you."

They didn't talk about it anymore. Harry didn't even ask what Magneto had really said to John, because he was pretty sure he knew exactly what it was. Why John thought of himself the way he did. Because, Harry certainly didn't believe anything John had told him.

And Harry didn't want to talk anyway. He wanted to prove John wrong. He wanted to make John his. And if he couldn't, well he'd certainly be John's. So they kissed and Harry led him to bed. John watched him carefully the whole time, as if believing that at any time Harry would change his mind. But Harry was in too deep now. He wouldn't be surprised with himself if ever he found out John really was everything he said and Harry still wanted him.

Harry pulled John down on top of him. By now, they knew exactly how to line up their bodies, how to move beneath and on each other. John knew exactly how to bite down between his collar bone and shoulder. Harry knew that every time he ran a hand along John's lower abs he would take that shuddering breath that Harry always craved to hear. So who really knew how well they knew each other. But they knew this.

Harry tried to work his hand into John's pants but he was having a hard time unbuttoning John's pants with the way his neck was currently being sucked on. Then John pulled his mouth away and stopped the trajectory of Harry's hand. John rested his head for a moment, besides Harry's, turning his head slightly.

"I love you." Harry barely heard it but John's voice had been just loud enough. John covered Harry's mouth before he could say anything. "Please. Don't say it back," John said as if it was the most important thing in the world. "I mean it."

So Harry didn't. Even though he certainly did love John back. No matter who he was. Instead, Harry pulled him into a soft kiss, which quickly grew. This time John helped Harry unbutton his jeans. They moved together. This they could do right.

**PAGE BREAK**

"This might be the final straw," Beast sighed, looking at the rest of the X-Men. "The last couple of months, public opinion has been turning against us again, but this incident? Mutant-human violence is on the rise. And it's going to take something big to stop it."

"I don't get it," Kitty said, turning to Scott and the Professor whose faces were grim. Bobby glanced up at her from where he had been staring at the floor. There was no way she couldn't get it. She just didn't want to. "What was the point of killing her? Her research wouldn't have harmed anybody."

Scott looked at the Professor, obviously waiting for him to explain. The Professor sighed. "Exactly. I fear Erik's strikes have not been as random as we thought."

Kitty looked around at the other again. "He's starting a war, Kitty," Rogue told her point blank.

"Well, what are we going to do about it?" Kitty turned back to the others determinedly, eyes blazing.

"I have another meeting with the President tomorrow. I can—" Beast began.

"That ain't gonna do a thing, bub," Logan said.

"I'm afraid Logan is right," the Professor said with a nod. "The President has proven he wants peace, but I'm afraid he won't be able to keep it when things turn for the worst." No one missed that he said 'when', not 'if'."

Scott turned to Bobby. "Can you call Harry Potter? If he's as powerful as they say he is, maybe—"

But Bobby cut him off. "That wasn't part of our deal. He won't—" But he too was cut off but his phone ringing. He fumbled for it, embarrassed that he hadn't put it on silent. Then he saw the number. He paused, surprised by the timing.

"Is that him?" Jean asked. All eyes were on the phone.

"Put him on speaker," the Professor ordered. "We'll talk to him. All of us. We will get him to understand."

Bobby nodded, flipping phone open. "Hey," he said. "I put—"

For the second time he was cut off. "_Bobby, I'm changing the plan._"

Bobby exchanged glances with the others. "What do you mean?" he asked.

"_I'm getting John out. Then I'm taking down the Brotherhood_. _Before war breaks out."_

The Professor and Bobby looked at each other, both knowing what this could mean. It was exactly what they needed. They could no longer grant leniency towards the Brotherhood.

"What if he doesn't want out, Harry?" the Professor spoke up.

"_He wants out. It's just…it's like he doesn't think he deserves it._" Harry took a breath. "_But it doesn't matter. He doesn't get a choice anymore_."

Bobby grinned. "Well, I guess it's nice to finally meet you, Harry Potter."

A.N. Phew! Loooong chapter. Unfortunately, it might have to hold you over for awhile.


	16. Before the Storm

_The Boy Next Door_

Part II

New Summary: Fifteen months after the events of Part I finds Harry Potter post-war. While victorious, Harry can't seem to get things back to normal and he soon becomes obsessed with confronting Pyro. Upon meeting him again, things don't go as expected, at least not how Harry consciously expected things to turn out. Harry soon finds himself in the middle of a mutant conflict and, for once, his role as the Chosen One, even a wizard, is not to blame.

Pairing: Slash. Harry/Pyro

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or the X-Men. J.K. Rowling, Marvel, and others have that honor.

Spoilers: HP 1-6. AU for summer of HP7. X1-3, First Class.

Warnings: Slash (not too explicit). Strong Language. Adult Concepts. Sexual Content. Violence/Abuse.

A.N. Sorry for the ridiculously long wait. First I had legitimate excuses like papers and work and holiday house guests. For the past month though, I have no excuses so I apologize. But I'm back! Thank you to those who continue to follow this story and give me wondrous feedback!

**A.N. 2 Technical difficulties! I'm sorry if this posts as a double chapter or something else but I'm trying to fix it!**

**Chapter 16: Before the Storm**

John loved sex. He did. But sometimes his favorite moments weren't those when Harry and he were inside each other making each other come undone but the little moments. Like this moment, squeezed onto the couch together watching the second Terminator movie, his back against Harry's chest.

The last few days, things had been pretty tense for them. They hadn't talked much, choosing any physical contact over even mentioning what had gone down. There was no mention of John professing his love and denying Harry the chance to do the same. And there certainly wasn't any mention of John falling apart over the death of that scientist. It was probably because of the tension between them due to these things that this moment felt so good.

John watched Sarah Connor load a few guns. "I think I'm gay," he said, perhaps a little randomly.

Harry didn't say anything for a moment. "Okay…" he trailed off. "I mean, clearly I know you like to have sex with men so-"

"I told you once that I liked both, men and women," John cut him off. "I'm just not sure if that's true."

Harry moved them so that he could look at John's face. They both sat up and Harry lowered the movie's volume. "Where is this coming from?" Harry asked, eyebrows furrowed.

John shrugged. "Self-reflection? I don't know. It just kind of hit me." He glanced at the movie playing. "Like the fact that I should find both Kyle Reese and Sarah Connor attractive but I never really liked the second movie all that much because Reese isn't in it and I always liked watching him."

Harry just looked at him. "I'm still not really following. You've slept with both and—"

Again John cut him off. "I know. Believe me, I know I've slept with both. But I don't think I've ever been attracted to both." John looked away for a moment, before meeting Harry's eyes. "You think that's a sign of how messed up I am? That I used to regularly have sex with people I wasn't attracted to just to get off."

"I think that's actually still in the general realm of fairly normal," Harry said, clearly still confused. John couldn't blame him. The conversation topic was sort of random, but for the first time John was thinking about _who_ he was, not what. As complicated as his understanding of his sexuality was, it was at least the least complicated thing about him. And that was just sort of sad.

"You don't think it's messed up that sex and attraction are so separate in my head that it's taken like eight years to figure out that I might be just plain gay? Not bi?" John asked, hoping it was a little clearer.

"Oh," Harry said quietly, seeming to understand a bit better. "Eight years?" Harry asked quietly. "That would've made you really young."

"Thirteen," John shrugged. "I told you. I've always had sex for any number of reasons." Harry didn't comment. Probably not knowing what to say. "But the only people I can ever really remember being attracted to have been male."

"Like me," Harry said with a small smile.

"Like you," John agreed. "Maybe a few others. Less than you would think though considering how many guys I've slept with." The conversation didn't seem to be making Harry uncomfortable at least. Harry didn't judge him for things like that.

"So you're gay, huh?" Harry asked. "You feel any different now that you've figured that out."

John paused. "No, not really. But I guess it's nice to know one thing for sure about myself. Even if it feels sort of random."

"It's not random," Harry told him with a grin. "It's part of who you are. In my opinion, that makes it very interesting."

John rolled his eyes, though he couldn't help smiling a little.

"I'm not, you know," Harry said. "Gay. I actually do like both. In fact, I think I lean towards women."

"Greedy," John commented, shaking his head. Harry swatted at him with a grin.

This felt nice. It felt normal. He could imagine that they were just two normal humans right now, just figuring themselves out. Or a normal human and mutant. But that couldn't last. It never did. His phone rang out.

John sighed, picking up the call, noticing how Harry's whole demeanor darkened. They would never be normal.

**PAGE BREAK**

"_Harry!_" Hermione's voice rang out over the phone. "Y_ou have no idea how happy I am to hear from you. It's been way too long_."

"Hi, Hermione," Harry couldn't help but smile. She was right. They hadn't spoken in far too long.

"_Wait a second. Ron is here, too. I'm going to put you on speaker,"_ Hermione told him.

"_Hey, Harry!"_ Ron's voice rung out. Harry was happy to hear his voice. They hadn't spoken as much as he and Hermione had and sometimes Harry wondered if Ron was struggling dealing with Harry's sexuality.

"Hey, Ron. How are you both?"

They spent a few minutes catching up with each other. Ron updated him on how things were going at the joke shop and Hermione mentioned how busy she was. Both of them, however, seemed to be holding something back.

"_What did you think of that newspaper article I had you read?_" Hermione finally asked.

"Fuck," Harry muttered, looking around wondering where he had put the damn thing. "Things just kept popping up, Hermione. I never actually read it."

"_Things kept popping up?_" Hermione asked. "_Harry, what are you even doing over there_?" Honestly, Harry should've expected that question. Probably sooner than she had asked it, too. He had told her that he was taking time off. Recovering. But he never mentioned how or even what he was doing with his days.

"Nothing," Harry answered. It was kind of the truth. When he wasn't with John, he didn't do much. Okay, maybe it had been the truth before he started talking to Bobby Drake. "What was in the article?"

"_Just something about—_"

But Ron cut her off. "_Don't worry about it. I told Hermione not to even send it to you. You deserve a break from here_." If Harry wasn't so worried about other issues, who would've found the whole thing suspicious. But his mind was far from the wizarding world.

"Okay." It was time to get to the reason behind his call, anyway. "Listen, Hermione, I was actually calling for a favor." She didn't say anything, only waited for him to continue. "I need you to find out everything you can about the Brotherhood. Things that aren't common knowledge."

"_Harry…_" He heard her take a deep breath. "_This isn't about Pyro, is it_?"

"Can you do this for me without asking questions?" he asked hopefully.

"_No_," Hermione responded, while Ron remained suspiciously silent. "_Harry, where are you? What are you doing in Muggle America?_" She sounded worried. Harry hated making her worry.

"Don't worry—"

"_If you tell us not to worry about it, I'm going to track you down and hex you into oblivion,_" Ron inserted vehemently, surprising Harry by his tone. "_We let you run off, Harry. We figured you needed a break. You better be taking a break and not giving us more reason to worry._"

Harry closed his eyes, taking a breath to steady himself. Should he tell them? He really needed their help but he didn't want them to get more involved than they had to. Yet, he couldn't keep keeping things from them. It wasn't fair to them.

"I went looking for him," Harry admitted. "Please, just listen. I needed to know why he did it. Why he set my uncle on fire. I was going to confront him and get my answers, thinking that could somehow fix me."

"_Did it?_" Hermione asked quietly.

"I didn't confront him," Harry admitted. "At least not right away. I found him and we…" He knew how terrible this was going to sound. They didn't know John. They only knew of the mutant terrorist. "I love him," he admitted out loud for the first time. "And he loves me."

"_Harry…_" Hermione said, her voice breaking. "_Don't do this to yourself. He's_—"

But Harry cut her off. "Don't, Hermione. You don't know him. You don't see him protect me from his own people. You don't watch old eighties movies with him over pizza. And you certainly don't hold him when he breaks down because he's realizing the thing he's dedicated his life to is a lie. You. Don't. Know. Him."

There was quiet on the other end for a moment. _"How do you know he loves you_?" Hermione asked quietly.

"Because he told me," Harry said, eyes closing. "Then he wouldn't let me say it back. I don't understand why but he wouldn't."

He heard shuffling on the other end. "_Why do you need information on the Brotherhood_?" Hermione asked finally, albeit a little hesitantly.

"Please, don't worry," Harry sighed. "I'm getting him out, Hermione. He doesn't belong there and Magneto's manipulating him. I know it. But it's worse. I've been watching the news constantly and it's clear what Magneto's doing. He's trying to start a war. Mutants and humans are living in relative peace but that's not enough for him. He's trying to re-start things."

"_Harry, you're not some sort of super hero. This is muggle affairs. The wizarding world has no right to get involved_," Hermione said.

"I'm not the wizarding world," Harry snapped. "I can stop a mad-man from drawing a country into war. I'm not going to stand back. I already told the X-Men—"

"_The X-Men? Harry, you can't get involved! If the Ministry finds out_—"

"I don't care about the Ministry!" Harry snarled. "I'm already involved. I need to do this for John. Hell, I need to do this for myself! I sat back and twiddled my thumbs while people died because I wanted to keep my John separate from Pyro in my own selfish head! Magneto has to be stopped. He doesn't get to start a war. He doesn't get to brainwash damaged kids into thinking they're worthless and only suited for terrible, awful things!"

"_Is that what you think he did to Pyro?_" Hermione asked.

"I don't think. I know. Because one day John is telling me he doesn't want to be with an organization that kills for no reason and the next he's telling me that he belongs with them. That he's too fucking good at doing it not to. Please…" Harry's anger died down. "Just do this for me."

"_This can't end well_," Hermione replied quietly. "_You have to know that_."

"I don't need it to end well for me," Harry admitted. "I know it probably won't. But it might end well for others. For John."

Hermione sighed. "_I'll see what I can do_."

"Thank you, Hermione," Harry said in relief. "And Ron—"

But Hermione cut him off. "_I'm sorry, Harry. Ron left when you said that Pyro told you he loved you._"

Harry couldn't believe how much that hurt.

**PAGE BREAK**

Harry had just poured himself a glass of whiskey after returning from a long meeting with the X-Men. They were going over ways to handle the Brotherhood situation before it came to war. A direct attack on the Brotherhood would be necessary. While Xavier could find Brotherhood members while they were out of headquarters, it was too sloppy. Magneto was almost impossible to track down and if they didn't get him, it would be all for nothing. Harry admired the X-Men. In many ways they reminded him of the Order of the Phoenix. Sure, Harry had problems with a few of them due to his relationship with John, but for the most part they included him. Especially the Professor and Bobby. They knew what it was like to be so personally tied to the Brotherhood. Harry could see it in Xavier's face whenever he talked about his old friend.

It was from thoughts of this meeting that Harry was shaken out of when he heard the lock on the door turning. Thinking John was getting back earlier than expected, Harry put his glass down and went to meet him. However, it wasn't John shutting the door behind him.

"Hello, Mr. Potter," Magneto said, almost friendly. His eyes were taking Harry in, evaluating him. Harry froze, wondering if he should reach for his wand, but Magneto wasn't showing any signs that he would attack. "I though perhaps we could have a chat."

Harry slowly gestured towards the living room, watching as Magneto took in his apartment. He sat down on Harry's couch like it was a throne. Harry followed but refused to sit. He stood in front of the couch, keeping a comfortable distance.

"You've certainly grown-up since I last saw you," Magneto said, eyes still glued to him. While his words were friendly, his eyes were anything but. "I admit, I didn't quite understand last year why young Pyro was drawn to you. You've certainly matured into a man to be drawn to, I suppose."

"Is this where I say 'thank you'?" Harry asked, unimpressed.

"A polite young man would," Magneto replied with a smile.

"Good thing I have no interest in being a polite young man," Harry told him. He just wanted Magneto to get down to it. Why was he here? "Did you want something? I doubt you visit all of your followers' lovers."

"Perhaps not," Magneto admitted. "Then again, most of my followers, as you called them, aren't as attached to theirs as Pyro is to you."

"And you figured you'd come down here and solve the mystery, huh?" Harry asked. "Figure out what it is about me. Mystique already tried that. I doubt it did her much good."

"Oh, I don't have to do that. I already figured it out," Magneto told him with a smile. Harry's body froze ever so slightly. He didn't like Magneto's tone. "It is quite nice to meet you, Harry Potter."

"We've met," Harry reminded him. "Admittedly, I thought your name was Erik Horton but you've met me."

"Have I really?" Magneto asked standing. Harry's hand moved towards his wand and Magneto's eyes followed. "Have I met the real Harry Potter? The boy-who-lived?"

This time Harry did grab for his wand. He didn't raise it, but he was prepared for Magneto's attack. But Magneto didn't attack, instead letting out a laugh. "What are you laughing at?" Harry growled.

"Just the situation," Magneto said quite happily. "I've known your name, the beginnings of your story for years. Albus Dumbledore told me. And yet, when I meet this young boy named Harry Potter, shunned by the humans around him, I had no idea."

"You knew Dumbledore?" Harry asked. Sure, he knew that already but this was a test. He couldn't let Magneto know he knew.

"Ah, yes, we were old friends," Magneto said. "We haven't, of course, spoken in years. Albus did not agree with my chosen path. But that's another story." He peered at Harry. "Aren't you going to ask me how I came to know who you are?"

"I wasn't sure if that was important," Harry said warily.

"I had someone check Pyro's internet use. Imagine my shock at what he found." Magneto pulled out a print-out from inside his coat. He cleared his throat dramatically, reading: "_This page is in memory to Lily and James Potter, ruthlessly murdered by He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.__In these dark times, when in the world that has become our own we cannot express our true allegiances, this page has been made in support of Harry Potter._" He stopped looking over at Harry who was having a hard time breathing. Did John know? Had he figured out what Harry was holding back? "No need to panic, my boy. I am quite sure Pyro has no idea what any of this means. But keeping secrets? Tut. Tut. What will Pyro think?"

It had been a long time since Harry had felt this much hatred towards anyone. He could feel it flowing through him and he had to calm himself down before he lashed out. "What do you want?" he spit out.

"I want to know your motivations," Magneto said, for once dropping his façade. "Were you called in to take us down? To use your connection to Pyro?"

"No," Harry hissed out. "I wasn't called in. The wizarding world doesn't get involved in muggle affairs."

"Then why are you here?" Magneto asked.

"Did it ever occur to you that I'm here because of John?" Harry asked incredulously. "That it has nothing to do with the Brotherhood?"

"For Pyro?" Magneto asked as if something didn't match up. "What would a wizarding hero want with a mutant terrorist?"

"I've never seen John like that," Harry glared.

"Then what do you see?" Magneto asked a little curiously. "That boy is damaged. He is perfect for someone like me. The damage he has suffered has suited my purposes one way or another for nearly four years. Pyro is useful. He is intelligent, for sure, but I see very little use in the boy beyond his mutation. Once upon a time, Pyro was his mutation. A thing to behold. That anger and that fire but since you…" Magneto shrugged. "The further he deviates from the flame, the more he returns to one of Charles' pathetic student projects."

Harry stared. He hadn't quite expected this. Wasn't John one of his most trusted followers? The news always seemed to make Pyro out to be high up in the ranks of the Brotherhood. Sure, Harry knew that Magneto used certain things to manipulate John, but he never thought Magneto actually believed his own words.

Magneto studied him carefully. "But, I wonder, what does a boy like that have to offer a boy like you? Surely you realize you two are not on the same level."

"You're disgusting," Harry sneered. "Who looks at another person and only sees a weapon? You don't see how amazing he is. He's better than you. He's better than your whole Brotherhood."

Magneto raised an eyebrow, clearly amused at Harry's anger. "So you _are_ here for 'John'. In that case, maybe a little advice is needed." He met Harry's eyes. "Your little boyfriend will be quite angry when he finds out all that you've been hiding. He'll come running straight to me and my Brotherhood. You'll drive him back to me surer than anything else ever could."

"You're going to tell him, aren't you?" Harry asked, palms feeling wet. He had no idea how much he actually feared that possibility until now.

"Me?" Magneto asked pleasantly. "No, I want nothing to do with it. I am just eager to see how this plays out." His eyes turned harder as he took a step closer to Harry. "But the moment you even think about crossing me is the moment I stop letting things play out."

"Do you think I'm scared of you?" Harry asked taking a step forward. He knew he could take Magneto. What was a man who could control metal compared to a wizard like him?

"You told Mystique you weren't scared of her because you weren't scared of anything she could do to you," Magneto said as he moved towards the door. "Fear me, young wizard. Just a couple of words from me and you will lose that boy you care so much about."

And Harry's insides truly twisted in something he hadn't felt since the war. Fear. He had been prepared to lose John but he would never be prepared to lose John to the Brotherhood. Never.

**PAGE BREAK**

John wasn't quite expecting what he got when he returned to Harry's. Almost the moment he shut the door behind him, he was pulled into Harry's tight embrace. Harry clung to him for a couple of moments and all John could do was hug him back, holding him as tightly as possible. Harry buried his face into the crook of John's neck.

"What's wrong?" John asked quietly. It must've been the wrong thing to say because Harry pulled back quickly.

"Nothing," Harry insisted, backing away. "Don't worry about it." John peered at him for a moment wondering what to say or do. "Can you just kiss me?" Harry asked finally.

"You never have to ask," John told him with a small smile, pulling him towards him. Harry closed his eyes as John leaned in and pressed his lips firmly against his. He opened his mouth, pulling Harry into a deeper kiss. They matched each other's movements, John's tongue dipping into his mouth and running along the roof of it, slowly moving in to suck gently on Harry's tongue.

Harry pulled away slowly. "Tell me you'll never stop doing this," he whispered.

"Don't ask me to make promises like that," John implored. He had no idea what happened that was making Harry this needy. All he wanted was to reassure him but he knew he couldn't. John couldn't make promises like that. He knew he could never give Harry forever. Things didn't work out like that.

"I'm asking you to lie to me," Harry said, running his hand through John's hair before resting it against his neck. His green eyes bore into John's for a moment before he pulled back. It was as if he was shaking himself back to reality. John could see the tensing of his body. "Sorry," Harry told him with a small smile. "I didn't mean to get like that."

"Don't apologize," John said, eying him carefully as if he could figure out what was wrong by just looking at him. But he gave up. Harry and he were not like that. They didn't know each other nearly well enough for that. How much did they even really know about each other? John's mind turned quickly back to that mysterious web page he had found. "I'm going to go shower, then we can watch a movie or something."

Harry only nodded as John headed to the bathroom. He took his time in the shower, the noise of the water roaring in his ears. He tried to wash away the stench of the Brotherhood, everything that made him unworthy of Harry. John couldn't help but think about telling Harry he loved him in a moment of weakness. He had covered Harry's mouth to keep him from returning those words, just in case he would. He didn't want Harry's love. Harry deserved something more. If he didn't say those words, John could convince himself that Harry wasn't getting in too deep. A human had no place in his world of mutant wars. And Harry had no place loving someone as broken and horrible as John. But John was too selfish to give him up.

The last thing John expected as he exited the bathroom, towel wrapped securely around his waist, was company. Besides Mystique, John had never seen anyone else inside the apartment but right in front of him, standing in the kitchen talking with Harry in a low voice was a rather tall red-headed boy about Harry's age.

Almost as soon as he left the bathroom, the red-head turned his glare to him. John raised his eyebrows, glancing over at Harry. "Hey," Harry said very quickly. "John, this is Ron. Ron…John."

Ron and John looked at each other for a few moments. "Hey," John offered neutrally, trying to remember if Harry had ever mentioned a Ron. He doubted it. When he thought about it, Harry rarely mentioned anyone.

Ron didn't return the greeting. "So this is him," Ron said instead, looking back over at Harry, his British accent clear. It was a different accent than Harry's though.

"Yes," Harry answered uncomfortably. He glanced at John. "Maybe you should get dressed?" he suggested.

John shrugged, pretending not to care about whatever it was that Harry quietly snapped back at his friend. He didn't bother much with what he was wearing, just pulling something on and rejoining them. He took in the way Harry and Ron were glaring at each other.

"So who are you?" John asked as he pulled a beer out of the fridge. He eyed Ron as he took his first sip.

"Ron Weasley. Harry's best friend," Ron said almost in challenge.

"Funny, he's never mentioned you," John commented.

"Yeah, well, Harry has always played it close to the chest," Ron replied, not letting John get to him. But his eyes were glued to John now.

"Can we not do this?" Harry sighed, looking between them.

"Do what?" John asked as innocently as possible. "I'm getting to know your friend here." He turned back to Ron. "To what do we owe this little visit anyway?"

"I'm visiting Harry. You have nothing to do with it." John didn't completely understand the hostility in his voice.

"Ron—" Harry started warningly.

"What?" Ron snapped. "When you said you had to get away, I supported you. I figured you needed the time. You can't expect me to support you now that I know all you were really doing was running to him." He gestured wildly towards John.

"I wasn't running to him," Harry sighed, obviously frustrated. "And can we not talk about this here?"

John stared at his beer. "Why?" he asked, looking up. "Can't do it in front of me?"

Harry turned towards him, obviously trying to keep himself from appearing panicked. But Harry had already been shaky and off when he had gotten home. He was clearly struggling to keep his emotions in check any further. "I told you I couldn't tell you everything. You understood."

"I never understood," John said. "I just didn't push." He felt himself growing annoyed. "What really gets me, though, is that clearly if the way your boy over there is glaring at me says anything, he knows exactly who I am. I think the deck's stacked a bit unevenly here."

"You're right," Ron told him, voice sharp. "I do know who you are." His face seemed to be growing pink with his anger. "It's not enough that you're some mutant terrorist either. You killed his uncle then left him to deal with the consequences. If it wasn't for who he is, he could've been thrown in jail!"

John tilted his head. "And who exactly is he, then?" He turned to look at Harry. "Who are you?" Because this was getting ridiculous. All the little things he learned about Harry didn't add up. They painted the strangest picture of murderers, bank robberies, and a teenage boy somehow central to everything. What was it about Harry that kept him from getting thrown into jail?

But Harry ignored his question. "I killed my uncle, Ron. I put the glass into his gut. Not John. And he told me to put it all on him, I just didn't listen. Besides, the police were clearing me anyway! It had nothing to do with who…I was already cleared."

"You know what, Harry, fine," Ron replied throwing his hands up. "I came here to check up on you. To hopefully talk you out of this. You've done some insane shit in your life Harry. And I've stood by your side, but I can't do it this time." He pointed at John wildly. "This is a bad idea! Don't you think you've had enough? Don't you think that everything you went through was enough? Why do you always have to put yourself into these crazy, dangerous situations?"

"I don't put myself in these situations," Harry snapped. "They find me. They always have."

"No, they don't!" Ron shouted, eyes fuming. "Not always. Sometimes you go out and find it yourself. You just get bored or something and walk straight into it. You're doing it now. But this time, I'm not involving myself." Ron pulled an envelope out of his jacket, throwing it down on the counter. "Here's your information. I'm asking you not to ask Hermione for anything else. I don't want my girlfriend pulled into something else right now. We all have enough to deal with back home."

"Ron," Harry called as his friend turned to leave. "What…." But his friend ignored him, slamming the door shut after him. He ran a hand through his hair before resting his head in both hands.

"What's in the envelope?" John asked, drinking his beer.

Harry didn't look up. "That's none of your business."

John snorted. "Of course it's not," he muttered darkly.

"Please, John. Don't," Harry said tiredly. It was the pure exhaustion in Harry's voice that really stopped him.

"I'm never going to find out who you really are, am I?" John asked, moving in front of Harry and trying to get him to look at him.

"Not if I can help it," Harry admitted, still not looking up.

"Why?" John asked, the frustration leaking into his voice. Why the secrecy? What the fuck was going on?

Harry finally looked up. "Because I don't want to be that person anymore." His green eyes were just so sad and so tired. "But I don't have a choice. I know that. I just want a little longer with you without all that."

John and Harry studied each other's eyes for a little while. He saw the pleading, the pain. He saw everything but answers. It was like Harry was slowly cracking in front of him, but then it was gone. He watched as Harry turned away from him and looked down at the envelope Ron had left behind. Harry grabbed it before looking at John again. He watched as Harry's walls were suddenly brought back up.

"Harry…" John trailed off, not knowing exactly what he wanted to say. Why did he feel like the end of something was coming? He reached across the counter, grabbing Harry by the collar of his shirt and pulling him into a bruising kiss.

"What are you doing?" Harry breathed out as he pulled away.

"If all you want is a little while longer," John breathed against his lips. "I'm going to make sure you feel it after." Harry's eyes darkened at his words, his breath hitched.

"God, yes," Harry muttered, pulling John back in, yanking at his hair. There was nothing gentle about this kiss. It was all teeth and tongue and fingers digging into skin. John shoved the enveloped out of Harry's hands, moving so that the counter was no longer between them.

John didn't know when this was going to end, if it was tonight, tomorrow or a month from now. But he knew this couldn't last much longer. And he would make sure that Harry felt each and every last kiss they shared, every fuck, hell every word. He was going to feel John when he was gone and he sure as hell wanted to feel Harry too.


	17. Coming Clean

_The Boy Next Door_

Part II

Summary: Fifteen months after the events of Part I finds Harry Potter post-war. While victorious, Harry can't seem to get things back to normal and he soon becomes obsessed with confronting Pyro. Upon meeting him again, things don't go as expected, at least not how Harry consciously expected things to turn out. Harry soon finds himself in the middle of a mutant conflict and, for once, his role as the Chosen One, even a wizard, is not to blame.

Pairing: Slash. Harry/Pyro

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or the X-Men. J.K. Rowling, Marvel, and others have that honor.

Spoilers: HP 1-6. AU for summer of HP7. X1-3, First Class.

Warnings: Slash (not too explicit). Strong Language. Adult Concepts. Sexual Content. Violence/Abuse.

A.N. First, I am so sorry for the ridiculously long wait. After I finish this story, I'm definitely taking a break from fanfiction. I don't really have the time at all. Not to mention, even knowing where I'm going with this story, I have found it nearly impossible to write when I do have the time.

So I just wanted to make something clear as I've had a few reviews wondering why/critiquing the fact that Harry (or I) was making such a big deal over the fact that Harry was keeping his past from John. I'm sorry if my writing didn't make this clear! Hopefully this chapter will.

And again, thank you for wonderful feedback!

**Chapter 17: Coming Clean**

"There's nothing here," Harry sighed in frustration.

"Sure there is," Bobby argued, looking up from one of the papers he was reading. "It's a classification of threat levels for each and every member of the Brotherhood."

Harry stared at him. "Anything you didn't already know?"

"Some," Bobby said. He looked down. "Okay, maybe very little. You didn't expect the wizarding world to know much more than us, did you?"

Harry shrugged. "I hoped. Especially since this whole thing caused a really awkward fight with my best friend in front of John."

Bobby's eyebrows rose. "How'd that work out for you?"

"Ron's not talking to me," Harry sighed. He looked at Bobby who was still waiting. "Oh, you meant with John. Actually it ended with really awesome sex."

Bobby winced. "Dude, overshare." If Harry wasn't so stressed out, he would've found that amusing. Bobby paused. "I can't believe I'm going to get into this, but you don't really seem like someone coming down from really awesome sex."

Harry shrugged again, not really wanting to talk about it, but Bobby just kept looking at him. "Have you ever been in such a tense situation that you feel like if anyone even breathes the wrong way, everything's going to implode? Yeah, well, that's what it feels like between John and me right now. It feels like the end and I'm not the only one feeling it."

"Does he suspect anything?" Bobby asked carefully.

"I don't think so," Harry said slowly. "I mean he knows that something is up with me. And he's getting a bit fed up with all the secrets he knows I'm keeping. But I don't think he suspects this."

Harry turned back towards the documents Hermione had gotten for them, hoping the pieces of parchment would have something more. He chose not to tell Bobby that though John didn't suspect this, Magneto knew enough to ruin everything. It wasn't like Bobby could do anything about that anyway.

"You know I could always just go under my invisibility cloak and follow John to headquarters," Harry offered, throwing the papers down again.

"And take on the Brotherhood by yourself?" Bobby scoffed. "And, dude, you have an invisibility _cloak_?"

Harry shrugged. "I'd call you guys first."

"Would you wait for us?" Bobby asked, leveling a glance at him.

"Probably not," he admitted.

"Then that is so not the plan," Bobby decided.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Okay, then. How about I follow him, come back to you with the location of the headquarters, then we make a plan of attack."

Bobby paused. "That could work."

"Awesome," Harry declared, standing. "You can keep all of this. I'm going to go stalk my boyfriend."

"What? Now?" Bobby asked, half-way between standing and sitting.

"Well, no, not now. He'd have to come home first, then get called in again," Harry replied slowly.

Bobby sat back down. "We're really doing this. I don't think I can imagine an X-Men without the Brotherhood. Or not having to worry about fighting John all the time."

Harry's eyes grew soft as he stared down at Bobby. He was really coming to consider the other boy a friend these days. "Do you really worry about it all the time?"

"Well, not all the time," Bobby replied with a shrug. "But at least several times a day."

"I never really experienced that," Harry told him. "I always hated every person on the other side. I never really had to worry about things not being black and white."

Bobby just looked at him for a second before his face broke out in a wry smile. "I bet you anything that things were a whole lot less black and white than you thought. That's just not the way you saw it." Harry thought for a moment about the Malfoys, wondering how many others there were. About the ones threatened or cursed onto Voldemort's side. He didn't want to think about it. He didn't wonder how many Pyros stood in the Death Eaters' ranks.

"I'll call you," Harry said instead. "As soon as I know something."

"Harry," Bobby called before he could leave. "Have you thought about how you're going to get to John? Turn him against the Brotherhood?"

He hadn't. And he felt like he was running out of time.

**PAGE BREAK**

Mystique shut the door behind her, rolling her eyes as she finally ditched the annoying Avalanche. She eyed Magneto warily. "That's it," she announced at the pleased look on his face. "You've had that look on your face for days. What's going on?"

Magneto couldn't keep the smirk off his face. "A war is brewing, can't you feel it?"

Mystique raised an eyebrow. "And this has you positively giddy? Well, giddy for you. Usually something like this would give you a sense of grim satisfaction. Or something else suitably appropriate for war."

Magneto leaned back in his chair, practically lounging. "Well, I guess you can say I have also found a new source of entertainment. Like a soap opera really."

"A soap opera?" she questioned, not sure whether such a thought should make her nervous. Honestly, she doubted Magneto had watched anything on t.v. but news in his life. What qualified as a soap opera to him? She though guiltily of that Turkish soap opera she had watched intently when she was trapped in a hotel in Saudi Arabia for a weekend.

Magneto eyed her for a moment before leaning forward. He really was practically giddy. "Maybe I should share. I am almost positive you will get as much enjoyment out of this as I." Mystique sat down, preparing herself. That seldom seen good-side of hers unsure of whether she even wanted to know. But the dark twisted part of her eager for him to share. "I've been to see Pyro's boyfriend," he announced.

"Why?" she asked, non-plussed. She was under the impression he considered the boy a non-entity.

"Apparently, there is much more to this Harry Potter than we were aware." Refusing to play into his theatrics, she waited patiently for him to continue. "Do you remember my friend Albus Dumbledore?"

"Well, you never introduced us but I remember you speaking of him," she responded. "Belonged to some sort of super-secret wizarding world, right? And something about some boy savior he was always talking about."

Magneto smiled. "Do you happen to remember the name of said boy savior?"

"Harry something, wasn't—" she stopped in the middle of her question. "Really?" She was unsure whether she was shocked or enthralled with the idea.

"Really," Magneto provided. "We spoke. Poor boy is so scared of our Pyro finding out."

"Why?" Mystique asked, honestly at a loss.

"Once one starts to lie, it is rather hard to stop, isn't it?" Magneto posed. "Especially with the opinion of an emotionally unpredictable and unbalanced boy to worry about."

"Do you really think Pyro will freak out?" Mystique asked, feeling almost guilty in how much she felt like she was gossiping.

"It's a possibility. And I cannot wait to see how it all plays out."

**PAGE BREAK**

John wasn't quite sure what to do with himself. He had never returned to the apartment to find it empty. Hell, he had only known Harry to leave the place a handful of times. Was it strange that he kind of thought Harry spent all his time just hanging out in the Spartan apartment?

He was reading a book when he heard it, a scratchy tapping noise on the kitchen window. When he looked up, he was surprised to see a tiny owl. An owl knocking on the window? Come to think about it, hadn't Harry said he owned an owl? John stared at it for a moment but it didn't seem to intend to go away. He considered opening the window but then he remembered late nights watching _The Omen II_ and _Birds_ with Bobby and people getting their eyes scratched out. Maybe the owl wasn't really knocking to come in. Maybe it had gone crazy with rabies and would attack him the moment he opened the window. Then, John spotted something tied to the bird's leg: a scroll of some sort. But who would use an owl like some sort of carrier pigeon? Deciding to throw caution to the wind and taking comfort in the fact he could always make fried owl of it if it attacked, John opened the window. He couldn't help but flinch as it flew past him to get inside, though. It stood on the kitchen counter staring at him. They looked at each other for a moment before the owl offered his leg, and the scroll attached to it.

John approached slowly before cautiously untying the scroll. He glanced again at the owl before unrolling it. He hadn't expected to see Harry's face staring up at him from the page. And he certainly hadn't expected the picture to be moving.

**PAGE BREAK**

Harry let himself in, throwing his keys on the counter as he shut the door behind him. Spotting John's coat resting on one of the stools, he glanced around the apartment for him. He found John in the living room, sitting on the couch and playing with a carton of cigarettes.

"Hey, when did you get in?" Harry asked, offering a smile that was only a little strained. John looked up at him and something turned in his stomach. He couldn't place that look he was receiving. "Is everything okay?" he asked slowly, panic setting in. Had Magneto said something to John?

John picked up a scroll, silently offering it to him. And that's when Harry spotted Pig, the tiny owl cleaning his feathers on top of the television. Harry's eyes flew to the scroll but his body only slowly moved towards it. He took it from John's hands, not quite surprised to see that it was a clipping from the Daily Prophet. And when he opened it, he was only slightly surprised to see his face, eyes quite literally blinking up at him.

"It's moving," John said lightly.

"It is," Harry agreed.

"You're not surprised," John replied, tone carefully neutral.

"No, I'm not," Harry agreed again before sighing. "Hasn't surprised me in quite a few years actually."

John stared at him. "What the fuck, Harry?"

Harry sat down, shutting his eyes for a moment in an attempt to compose himself. He let out a breath, refusing to look at John for a moment. Finally, he turned back to him. John still hadn't stopped staring at him. "I could get arrested for telling you what I'm about to tell you," Harry said, his tone impossibly light.

"Yeah, well, I could get arrested for just breathing at this point," John snarked.

"I'm not…" Harry took a breath. "I've been lying to you." John just looked at him. "Admittedly, by omission but still. I'm not a mutant, I didn't lie about that. But I'm not some normal human either." Harry cleared his throat, not looking at John and choosing to just go for it. "I'm a wizard. I can do magic. In fact, there is a whole world of us out there. My friend Ron, my friend Hermione, my ex-girlfriend Ginny. I don't know exactly how many of us there are but there is a whole wizarding world out there. We have our own shops, our own banks, jobs, schools, government. A whole society in just about every country in the world, hidden from muggles'—I mean non-wizarding people's—eyes."

He knew he was rambling, but he couldn't stop. Not now. And he couldn't look at John either. "And I'm not some normal wizard either. I'm kind of famous. Maybe more than kind of. Actually definitely more than. Probably every witch and wizard knows my name because that man I told you about? Tom Riddle? He was the most powerful dark wizard in centuries. And he had the entire British Isles at his mercy, and some of continental Europe too. Until my friends and I stopped him. Until I stopped him. He killed my parents, tried to kill me when I was just a baby because some prophecy said I could stop him. And I did. I became the wizarding world's savior this past June. Again. And they gave me medals, put me up on this high pedestal. They rushed me through the ranks to become a soldier for them. I let them make me into a political figure, a symbol. And then the first chance I had, I ran. Came to you. Because I still wanted you. I just couldn't be Harry Potter, the-boy-who-lived, the savior of the wizarding world a moment longer. I needed you. Even if I didn't know it at the time."

Harry finally looked at John who was still looking at him the same. Harry looked at the man he knew he loved, knew he would eventually lose, and hoped for the impossible. "And now you know."

"And now I know," John agreed, clearly somewhat at a loss. He stood turning away from Harry for a moment. "It's a lot," he said running a hand through his hair. His eyes focused in on Harry. "Why are you looking at me like that?" Harry shrugged, not sure how exactly he was supposed to be looking. So he looked away. "You don't think—Harry I don't care about all that." Harry's eyes flew back towards him. "This doesn't change anything," John went on, coming to sit back next to Harry. "Yeah, I'm annoyed that you didn't tell me. That you didn't trust me enough to tell me, but so what? So you're a wizard or whatever. And honestly, I'm not surprised you're some sort of hero. Or a war veteran of some sort. You act like one. We can move on from this, just like we did with me being Brotherhood."

This was too much. Too good to be true. Why had Harry been so worried about telling him all this time? John didn't care. They could still be together. Harry almost smiled. Almost. Until he remembered what all this meant. What being Harry Potter meant. That he lied so that he didn't have to _be_ Harry Potter. That he would eventually have to be him again, especially with what the headline on that clipping had suggested was going on in the wizarding world—a political war that his name was being dragged through. And, finally, Harry remembered what else there was to his secret. What being Harry Potter really meant. And Bobby.

"Why do you still look like you've been sentenced to death?" John asked, eyebrows furrowing. "I told you, we can move on from this."

"We can't," Harry practically breathed out, the words hurting his chest. "Because I'm Harry Potter," he said louder. "It's not just a name and it's not just a persona the wizarding world created. I've tried to pretend like it is, but it's not." His eyes were watering though no tears fell. He couldn't remember the last time he cried. Certainly not during the war. Not as he watched people he cared about die. But he was so close to crying now.

John moved to take his hand, clearly not knowing what to say. Not understanding what he was saying. "John, I _am_ Harry Potter," Harry said, looking at him carefully. "I didn't get involved in the war just because of some sort of prophecy or for some sort of revenge. I did because what Voldemort was doing was wrong. Just like what Magneto, what the Brotherhood, what _you_ are doing is wrong. It shouldn't be any of my business, except it feels like it is. I can't sit back."

John pulled his hand back. "What are you saying?" And Harry hated the distrust that seemed to have crept onto John's face.

"I'm saying Bobby Drake came looking for me. That he wanted my help in getting you out of the Brotherhood. In saving you. And I said yes. Because there's so much _good_ in you. Because I love you so damn much." Harry closed his eyes, feeling a single tear escape from them. "And then I volunteered to help take down the Brotherhood. As long as we got you out."

He opened his eyes as he felt John get off the couch. John was backing away from him, staring at him with unbelieving eyes. He watched as the anger and betrayal crept into them. Without a word, John grabbed his jacked and practically stormed out of the apartment. Without a word.

And Harry couldn't cry. He couldn't even breathe.

A.N. So I know this is short but this is the perfect spot to stop at. And I figured that I at least owe you all something posted as I don't know if I'll have time this weekend to add more. And after that, it could be another 2-3 weeks. But at least I updated, right? Sorry?


	18. Lines in the Sand

_The Boy Next Door_

Part II

Summary: Fifteen months after the events of Part I finds Harry Potter post-war. While victorious, Harry can't seem to get things back to normal and he soon becomes obsessed with confronting Pyro. Upon meeting him again, things don't go as expected, at least not how Harry consciously expected things to turn out. Harry soon finds himself in the middle of a mutant conflict and, for once, his role as the Chosen One, even a wizard, is not to blame.

Pairing: Slash. Harry/Pyro

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or the X-Men. J.K. Rowling, Marvel, and others have that honor.

Spoilers: HP 1-6. AU for summer of HP7. X1-3, First Class.

Warnings: Slash (not too explicit). Strong Language. Adult Concepts. Sexual Content. Violence/Abuse.

A.N. I am so incredibly sorry for the super long wait but I was hit by extreme writer's block. I have no other excuse. But then a funny thing happened. I was traveling without a computer and got extremely bored on my down time so I did the old-fashioned thing and took out a pen and a paper. Suddenly I was writing! But then, of course, I had to type it up and then finish it, but here it is finally. Thank you for putting up with the wait! Clearly, there is a reason I'm leaving fanfiction at least temporarily after this. I have a little of the next chapter written but I can't make any promises about when it'll be up. I'm just trying to finish this story and not abandon it at this point. I'm sorry for any errors but at this point I'm just trying to get things posted.

**Chapter 18: Lines in the Sand**

Bobby met Harry at the mansion doors at Xavier's orders, a smile of greeting on his face that quickly vanished as he took in Harry's face.

He dragged Harry past the curious students and took him to his room. The X-Men could wait. Right now, someone that Bobby had started thinking of as a friend looked like his world had fallen apart. That probably meant bad news for the X-Men's plans but that wasn't his concern right now.

"What happened?" he asked as he pushed Harry down at his desk.

Harry didn't answer for a moment. Then: "I think I might have ruined our plans. I don't think he's coming back. I can't follow him if he's not coming back."

"Harry," Bobby said gently. "Forget our plans for a moment. What happened?"

"I had to tell him the truth. About me being a wizard," Harry almost calmly informed him. "But once I started telling the truth I couldn't lie anymore. I told him _everything_. About you, too. How badly I'm really betraying him."

"You're not betraying him," Bobby quickly corrected him.

Harry glared. "Haven't we already established that John will see it that way?"

Bobby knew he was right, but he really wanted to say something of comfort. Anything really. But he didn't know what to say. He never really did. Without extensive practice and the extra PR classes he had taken before he graduated, he wouldn't even know what to say in front of the cameras as the public face of the X-Men. That was his carefully practiced Iceman façade. Plain old Bobby never had the right words. Maybe that's why John had left. Bobby didn't know the right words to make him stay. To make things better.

So instead, Bobby just went over to Harry and pulled him back up. He pulled Harry into a tight hug and though Harry's body stiffened at first, he eventually let himself be hugged and held onto Bobby. He didn't cry or anything as dramatic as that, but Bobby figured Harry was one of those people that didn't hug often.

They stood like that for a few moments before Harry pulled away. "Thanks," he said a bit awkwardly, glancing around the room. "We should probably inform Xavier that we need a new plan."

"You're still in?" Bobby asked a little surprised.

Harry looked at him as if he was an idiot. "I didn't lose John for no reason. We're taking down the Brotherhood and I'm dragging him out of there kicking and screaming if I have to."

**PAGE BREAK**

"The X-Men want to take us down," John informed Magneto calmly.

"What else is new?" Mystique snorted.

John looked at her. "They always wanted to stop us. Never actually take us out. Except for maybe Alcatraz but the Professor wasn't in charge back then." He tried to keep his tone business-like. He was Pyro. He was back. No distractions. Except it was a lot harder than coming back from that summer. He hadn't loved Harry then. Not yet. He hadn't been betrayed by him yet either.

Magneto studied him. "And how did you find this out?"

John met his eyes. "I have my ways." Just because Harry had betrayed him, didn't mean he had to do the same.

"So you're saying there's going to be a direct attack?" Mystique asked, intently focused on him. At least she was taking him seriously.

John shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe eventually. I don't exactly know a time table. Just that the plan is to take us out this time." He looked over at Magneto, raising his eyebrows. "Something must've pissed them off."

Magneto brushed him off. "They just think taking us out will stop their precious humans from starting a war."

"The president doesn't want to start a war," John pointed out.

"Contrary to popular belief, the president doesn't run the country by himself," Magneto responded, taking him in. "Surely Charles' school taught you _something_."

John bristled a bit, losing a bit of that numbness that he had developed, feeling a bit of that familiar rage that he had functioned on for so long. "Yeah it did," he bristled. "It taught me that most of your Brotherhood will be squashed by the X-Men. Just like at Alcatraz. Your little pawns aren't nearly powerful or smart enough to face them."

Magneto raised an eyebrow. "As I recall, you didn't fair too well yourself on Alcatraz."

"Yeah, well, I learn from my mistakes," John glared. "Besides, now I know what Iceman is actually capable of. That turning to ice thing was a surprise. I can take Iceman."

Mystique watched him carefully and John didn't like the look she was sending him. She always seemed to understand his relationship with Bobby all too well. "He's not wrong," Mystique finally spoke up. "Your new recruits are all fine and dandy to go up against humans, but the X-Men are a different matter."

"And what do you suggest?" he asked her. John couldn't help the anger he felt at the fact that she was being take a whole lot more seriously than he was.

"Match us up," Mystique offered. "Let your little followers go up against the X-Men. They should at least be distractions. But our better fighters should train to take out specific X-Men. Let's counteract them and take them down." She glanced at John. "You willing to do what's necessary?"

"I'll deal with Iceman," John practically snarled. The anger flared again, like his flame. Bobby had no business interfering in his life. Approaching Harry. This was all his fault.

"Good," she nodded, apparently believing him. "I'll take Wolverine. Scarlet Witch can take Storm. You Jean Grey." She paused for a moment. "Quicksilver and Cyclops. Can't hit what's too fast to target, can you?"

"And I'll figure out the rest. We'll speak to everyone tonight," Magneto decided, glancing briefly at him. John glared back. His eyes rested on John for a moment again before he continued. "Be prepared to prep a team. We are, after all, lucky enough to have an ex-X-Men with us. Rather convenient."

"I was never an X-Men," John shot back, not sure whether it was a dig at his loyalty. He got up to leave. He had some practicing to do.

As he left, he heard Magneto tell Mystique to fetch Multiple Man and Avalanche.

**PAGE BREAK**

Harry hadn't been in a bar for quite some time. He hadn't needed the alcohol. Not like he did now. This felt familiar. Sitting by himself at the end of the bar, drinking and brooding. Heavy on the drinking. And maybe the brooding as well. The X-Men wouldn't need him for a few days; they could handle following behind known Brotherhood members until they found the headquarters. You didn't need a wizard for that. He finished his drink, appreciating the burn as he swallowed.

"You look like you need another one," a well-built brown-haired guy said, as he sat beside him.

"If that's a pick-up line, I'm not interested," Harry responded, signaling the bartender again.

"I'm Lance," the guy laughed. "Straight, huh?"

"Only kind of," Harry snorted. "I'm just really not interested."

Lance laughed at him again before seemingly getting the picture. He made his way down the bar towards the bartender. Harry turned his eyes back to his empty drink, trying to be a good Harry Potter and actually reconsidering getting another one. A fight was coming, he didn't need to be burying himself in alcohol. But it was just so tempting. Just a little longer before he had to go back to an empty apartment. And maybe, if he got just a little drunker, it would hurt just slightly less.

"Here you go man." Lance had returned, another Jack and coke in hand. "I hope you don't mind that I asked the bartender what you ordered."

"I told you I wasn't interested," Harry sighed.

"I got the picture, thanks," he smiled. He was sort of good-looking, but to Harry he was just another guy. "You just look like you need it." He offered the drink again.

Harry took it warily. "You're not hoping that if you get me drunk enough I'll change my mind, are you? Because I'm kind of taken."

"Only kind of?" Lance asked, tipping his own glass towards him before swallowing a huge gulp.

"I'm taken," Harry stated firmly. He didn't care if John wouldn't agree with that statement. It felt more than true. He glanced down at the drink. What the hell. He downed it. He really did need it.

Lance grinned at him again before searching the bar for something, maybe someone. Harry didn't really care. Lance patted him on his shoulder before taking off again, that grin still in place.

Harry just wanted more alcohol, but he was beginning to feel the effects. As much as he wanted to just get smashed, he knew that was just too irresponsible. What if the X-Men needed him mobile by tomorrow? So, sighing, he decided to call it a night. He paid his tab, nodding a goodbye to the bartender. As he left the bar, he felt the relieving sensation of the cool air, refreshing against his skin after the warm bar. He barely managed to stumble out of the way of a rather built man with dark hair once he left the bar, tumbling into the wall instead. He must've drunk more than he thought.

"Whoa, man, are you okay?" the built man asked.

Harry ignored him. He had to. Everything was blurry and he was seeing multiple of him. "Yeah, I'm fi-" he tried to get out without slurring. "There's just more than one of you right now," he said confusedly.

He didn't remember drinking that much. He hadn't. Then when Lance from the bar joined the multiple versions of the built stranger, he knew for a fact he hadn't. "You," he mumbled. He wasn't seeing double. He reached for his wand but he was too slow. One of the Multiple Men took a swing at him before he could even get to it. The last thing he heard before everything went black was Lance's laughter.

**PAGE BREAK**

Mystique looked through the one-way mirror, taking in their newest prisoner. "How much did he struggle?" she asked Avalanche.

He smirked. "Not at all. The drugs did their job." He eyed up Harry, who was currently being tied to the chair in the interrogation room. "So that's him? Pyro's boy? He doesn't look like much."

Mystique almost shrugged. "I imagine we are not seeing him at his best," she commented lightly. "Have you sent someone for Magneto?"

Avalanche only managed to nod before Magneto walked through the door. He turned quickly upon seeing his boss. "Sir."

Magneto nodded towards him but his eyes were glued to Harry's unconscious form. There was a glint in them that she could not quite read. "You may leave," he informed Avalanche, who hesitantly followed his orders, no doubt searching for compliments. "Such a shame he involved himself in our affairs," Magneto said to her, sounding more amused than anything.

"I can't believe that, of all British boys Pyro could've met, he found himself your old friend's little protégé," she offered. He didn't answer her, just eying their prisoner. "What's the point of all this?" she finally asked.

"What do you mean?"

"Why take him?" she clarified. "How is this going to help anything?"

Magneto finally really looked at her. "Pyro must choose."

Mystique looked at him for a moment longer before turning to examine the boy wizard. He didn't look harmed. And Avalanche was right: he didn't look like much. Once upon a time, she probably would've loved to see him here. To scare the shit out of him and to prove him weak. So weak that he would leave. Then Pyro would be reminded of how little a human was worth. To be reminded of the superiority of mutant-kind and the cause they fought for. But things had changed. Harry Potter was no ordinary human and the cause was not as clear as it was before. Mystique had no qualms about having to start a war. What did she care for a human life? A war may not have been raging now but the time would come again. It was better to take the offensive now. Be the ones prepared. But she was beginning to see that Pyro could not think like that. He was never a mutant with a cause. He was a scared dog backed into a corner. A dog that lashed out and fought back rather than take the beating, but as soon as the threat was gone looked for a hand to show him love. It was disgusting and Mystique tried to be angry. But she couldn't be anymore. Pyro was just a kid. He wasn't her.

She sighed. "So what's the plan?"

Magneto looked at her like it was obvious. "We make him choose, once and for all. Otherwise, he serves no purpose."

Mystique nodded, leaving the room, her head a mess with thoughts. Perhaps, it was time to say goodbye. To finally accept that there was no one quite like her. There never had been.

**PAGE BREAK**

When Harry came to, his first thought was that he was an idiot. This version of him wouldn't have survived as long as he had during the war. Or perhaps he really had always been that lucky. His second thought was not so much a thought but an observation: Magneto was sitting across from him and Harry was tied to a chair. Without a wand. As he pulled at his hands, he noticed it wasn't even a comfortable chair.

As if reading his mind, Magneto asked. "Comfortable?" And ever so fitting for his name, there was a glint of steel in his eyes.

"Very," Harry gritted out, trying not to slur from the last of the drugs. "Best chair I have ever been tied to." Of all his experiences during the war, Harry didn't think he has ever been tied to a chair.

But Magneto ignored his humor. "I did warn you not to get involved. This matter between humans and mutants does not concern a wizard."

"Except we're all human, aren't we?" Harry challenged. "I may be a wizard but I'm also human. And you? You're so focused on that tiny genetic difference between you all and the rest of the muggles, you want to call yourself a new species. Kind of dramatic, aren't you?"

"Well, subspecies." Magneto nodded his head. "We can after all produce viable offspring with them."

Harry wrinkled his nose in disgust at the way Magneto spoke as if they were all just animals to be studied. "Why am I here?" he asked instead.

"I told you," Magneto looked unimpressed. "I warned you."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Yes, I got that, thanks. I mean here rather than dead."

"Would you prefer dead?" Magneto asked conversationally.

"I would prefer not to play these games," Harry glared. "Every time I'm captured or detained, you bad guys always want to talk me to death. If you all would ever just get to the point, I would've been out of the way a long time ago."

"I am not the bad guy."

Harry snorted. "And I'm sure the Nazis said the same thing. Tell me, how did that work out for you?" Perhaps it was a low blow. Harry could, after all, sympathize with the horrors Magneto had faced during the Holocaust, but what would repeating history do?

But Harry must've really angered Magneto. The chair Harry sat in began to tremble. Metal. Well, that explained why it was so uncomfortable.

"Do not speak of thing you cannot understand," Magneto warned.

"Then maybe you should start talking," Harry countered. "Why am I here? I interfered but I'm not dead. If this is about John, I don't know what you plan to prove. You won. He chose you."

"Not yet," Magento replied.

"Not yet what?"

"John," Magneto said the name distastefully, "has not chosen yet. You see, you speak of games, but this game is not over yet. You plan to take my black knight and your first moved failed. That does not mean you do not have another."

Harry stared. Was this really about John? What would bringing him here do about anything? "I was never very good at chess," Harry finally said. "I don't like plans. Plans fail. You go in with a plan and things go to shit. Me? I go with the moment. It's the only way I know how to play."

And it was true. Magneto had brought him to his base of operations, the one place he and the X-Men were trying to find. Well, it looked like Harry found it. Now only the X-Men had to. Harry wasn't sure how, but he was going to help that along. He'd figure it out. As for the other part of the mission, Magneto said John hadn't decided. Maybe now was the time to win John over.

"How did you ever win a war like that?" Magneto asked. It took Harry a moment to remember they were talking about chess and plans.

"Yeah, well, how many wars did you win playing chess?" Harry responded. "Besides, I didn't win a war. I took out the bad guy. With help. Everyone else did the rest." Harry shifted in his sear, trying to get a bit more comfortable. "Now what does chess have to do with me, John, and this chair?"

"You'll see," Magneto answered as he stood. "You know, it came to me that perhaps you won your war because 'the bad guys' always gave away their moves before they were ever even played." He opened the door to leave but turned around at the last minute. "And don't think struggling in that chair will do you much good." He pulled Harry's wand from the long pocket of his coat. "What use is a wizard without his wand?"

As he left, Harry figured Magneto had made his first mistake. He had shown Harry where his wand was.

**PAGE BREAK**

John hadn't been able to sleep much since he had left Harry's. It was strange being in this bedroom again, one he had once called his own. One he had once been proud of because it was more permanent, a bit more comfortable than the rest. After all, of the current Brotherhood, only Mystique had served Magneto longer.

John was sitting on his bed when Mystique found him. She didn't knock, just entered and closed the door behind her. They stared at each other for a few moments. "Is there something I can help you with?" he finally asked when it was clear she wouldn't speak first.

"Sometimes, I'm not sure why I'm still here," Mystique admitted, looking at John as if she were sizing him up.

"Here as in alive? In New York? This room?" John rolled his eyes. "I can't help you with an existential crisis 'Stique."

She ignored his snark. "You and I used to be friends, colleagues at least. I always thought we were the same sort. We walked away from Charles in a great moment of need, became things he always stood directly against. We both in some way wanted him to chase us. But the problem with Charles, you see, is that he doesn't chase. He believes we should be allowed to make our own choices, our own paths. That is why he uses that mutation of his so little for anything more than mind reading."

John simply stared for another moment. "What are you going on about?"

"I don't want Charles to chase me. Haven't since that first year," she continued as if he hadn't spoken. "But you? You never really got over it. That's why you are so angry with all of them. They let you run."

John glared. "I don't want to be chased. Never have."

"No, maybe not by whomever you ran from originally, but the X-Men? Charles? Iceman? You want them to come for you. To forgive you."

"Forgive? For what?" John snapped. "They're the ones who are wrong."

Mystique raised her eyebrows. "Then why help Iceman get those patients out of the hospital? Why react so badly to the death of that scientist? We at the Brotherhood do not believe in an innocent human. We believe it is us versus them, all of them. You believe in fighting back. Maybe once we were in agreement but things have changed. We have to start a war now for there to be one. When you joined, one was already coming. What keeps you from the X-Men now?"

But John already knew all of this. Not that he could completely make sense of it all in his own head. Or figure out what he _felt_ about it all. At seventeen, he had known what was right. What he had to do. He had been angry that the X-Men hadn't understood. He had been angry that no one had come after him, all of them so convinced for so long that it was only a matter of time before he lost it, before he went Brotherhood or worse. So he became what was expected of him. He always had. But now things were so confusing. Harry expected things of him no one ever had.

"You think Harry changed me," John realized. "That's why you've been so pissed with me since."

"Harry distracted you. He didn't change you. People don't change. You always were Charles' student. But yes, the timing of everything, it made me blame him," she leaned back against his desk. "But I don't blame him anymore. I don't even blame you anymore for not being the kind of sort I thought you were. That's why I'm here."

"And we're back at existentialism?" John raised his eyebrows.

"That's why I'm in this room, idiot," Mystique snapped. "Magneto is for the cause, that's why I'm Brotherhood, but he is not always right. I notice that more and more. Right now he is not right. A wizard may not be mutant, but he is not one of them either."

"A wizard?" John froze suddenly. "Harry? Mystique, what the fuck is up?"

"It's time to make a choice," Mystique sighed. "Your boy is in holding."

"Here?" John shot to his feet. Harry may have betrayed him, but this wasn't going to happen.

"Yes, here, you stupid boy," Mystique dismissed him. He didn't look back at her as he breezed past her, past everyone to get to holding. He burst into the observation room to find Avalanche on watchdog duty. And, sure enough, there was Harry tied to a chair in holding looking bored.

"What the fuck is going on here," John demanded of Avalanche, seeing in tunnel vision.

"I don't take my orders from you," Avalanche retorted though he looked nervous.

"Just answer the damn question," John flicked at his wrist igniters, satisfied when Avalanche's eyes nervously flickered towards his wrists.

"Magneto ordered us to take him in," Avalanche finally answered. "Your boyfriend here is behind the X-Men's rekindled interest in the Brotherhood."

"A part of, maybe, but behind? Hardly," John dismissed. "Besides, the Brotherhood is behind the X-Men's interest in the Brotherhood. We're starting a war in case you haven't noticed."

"You knew?" Avalanche asked, shocked.

"That we're starting a war? I'm not stupid," John rolled his eyes, checking quickly again on Harry.

"That your boyfriend is involved with the X-Men," the other boy quickly answered, looking betrayed. John didn't understand why. He barely knew the guy.

"I reported to Magneto," John answered. "Not that it's any of your business."

"Now that isn't exactly true." John spun around to spot Magneto observing from the corner. He couldn't believe he hadn't spotted him. The first rule of the streets, never mind X-Men or Brotherhood training, was to be aware of your surroundings. Magneto approached. "You told me the X-Men were to take an offensive against us. You never mentioned the boy wizard."

He was right. John hadn't. He hadn't wanted him involved. But something else about what Magneto said struck him. "You knew? That he was a wizard?" How did one simply know that? Then again, Mystique had known too. How many people knew there was a secret world of magic out there?

"I knew of a wizard named Harry Potter for just about seventeen years. I knew that Harry Potter and yours were one and the same for quite a bit shorter, a few weeks," his tone was dismissive but then he turned a grin towards John. "You certainly know how to pick them. The boy is a hero you see. Fighting a war since the diapers. Taking on fully grown, dangerous, deranged wizards since before he was a teenager. He is already a great many things with more potential still. If I had known last summer, even still if I had known his willingness to involve himself in mutant affairs, I would not have so easily dismissed him. But alas Charles has gotten him now, much like our friend Albus before."

John could only stare for a moment, taking in the new information on Harry but also the tone with which Magneto spoke—part disgust, part disappointment. "Who's Albus?" he asked, grasping at the last bit of Magneto's speech.

"Young Harry's mentor, of course. A friend of Charles' and mine. I had not spoken to him in years before he died but I am sure he trained Harry well. He needed a hero so he made himself a hero. You see, Albus fought for Charles' cause but with my bearing. If you think Harry could love someone on this side of the war, one of the bad guys as he sees us, you would be wrong. Albus always knew how to draw lines in the sand in the exact way that would get everyone to fall into place. A skill I still admire."

"Harry and I," John stood tall, "have nothing to do with your stupid war. It isn't about Brotherhood, X-Men, mutants, humans, wizards, whatever. It's just us."

Magneto sent him a patronizing look. "Then what is he doing talking to the X-Men, involving himself in taking us down. You too as you are one of us." That patronizing look turned into a pitying one. "You didn't really think he loved you, did you? He is a hero. A white knight. After the things you've done…he spent his whole life fighting that after all." Magneto sighed and turned as if to leave. "I would ask again why he came to find you after so long." With that he left.

"A wizard?" Avalanche asked. John had forgotten he was even there. "Like magic? Must not be able to do much. He was awfully easy to take in."

John glared at him. "Take in? If he has even one bruise, I'll—"

"Whoa, man," Avalanche raised his hands in defense. "We drugged him. We didn't hurt him. It wasn't too hard either with the way he had been drinking." John glared and watched as the other guy shifted uncomfortably.

"Leave," John ordered.

Avalanche looked down. "I can't. My orders say I stay here. And, as I said, my orders do not come from you." His eyes shifted to John's wrists. "No matter whether you flash those at me or not. Mageneto is a whole lot scarier than you."

John couldn't say anything to that. It was, after all, true. Instead, he grabbed the key off the desk next to Avalanche. "Now, wait a—"

"You heard Magneto," John spat out. "Told me himself to go speak to Harry. Wouldn't want to ignore his orders now, would I?" With that Avalanche backed off and John didn't hesitate to enter holding.

As quickly as he entered, Harry's eyes found him. "Hello, John," Harry said, eyes hesitantly drifting from him. His flippant tone did not match his nervous energy. "Are you here to get me out of this blasted chair?"

"You know I can't do that," John answered softly.

"I'm not asking you to break me out," Harry practically complained. "Just get me out of this chair. Hell, chain me to the wall if you'd like."

"You don't want to be chained to a wall," John rolled his eyes. "It's more uncomfortable than the chair."

Harry didn't look convinced, just sighed. "So what are you doing here?" Harry asked instead.

"You're here," John answered simply, not intending or even realizing how corny it had sounded until Harry raised his eyebrows.

"I don't see why you'd care," Harry spoke carefully. "You know who I am now. What I did. I've been talking to the X-Men behind your back. You should be done with me." He looked away as he finished.

"I should be," John agreed. He stepped a little further into the room, realizing he had barely entered before. "I might be. I guess it depends."

Harry looked up at him, his expressive green eyes betraying his young age as they so seldom did nowadays. John now knew what had changed in those eyes since they were sixteen. Harry had a soldier's eyes now. That didn't mean he still wasn't a teenage boy. "Depends on what?" Harry finally asked.

"On why you came to find me. After over a year." John couldn't help it. Magneto's words had gotten to him. They always had.

"We've talked about this," Harry reminded him. "I said I didn't know and you said I couldn't resist you. We both agreed you were probably right."

"But you never gave me the full story. You had things to hide," John spotted another chair. He pulled it to him and spun it around so that he could straddle it. He faced Harry, studying him carefully. "Now is the time to tell me. Why."

Harry stared. It was quiet in the room for a few moments as Harry thought. "War is hard," he said slowly. "It does things to people. But you don't have time to notice. Nor the energy. I lost a lot over the years but I kept going because I had a fight to fight. It got me past the loss of a friend, my godfather, my mentor. Past the lives of people I felt responsible for because some prophecy told me I was the only one who could stop a madman. Hell, it got me past murder because, no matter what you say, I killed my uncle. The fight didn't just get me past, it drove me further." Harry sighed, fidgeting in his chair. "Then one day the war was over. And there was no fight. Just fame and journalists and politics. People calling me a hero. Others questioning my motives. But I kept trying because I had been waiting for this. A life without war."

"But it didn't quite measure up, did it?" John asked. "What does a soldier do without a war? So you found another."

"No," Harry said plainly. "I found you. I tried to forget you, to make you into the bad guy. So I kept trying to be fine until I couldn't. Once the war was over, it all finally hit me. And I had people expecting things from me that I didn't know how to do. I couldn't be the political figure they needed. I couldn't even handle being just Harry. But then there was you. I didn't have to be anyone with you and you made me feel like I never fought a war, that I had never been Harry Potter."

"So what happened?" John said, trying to meet Harry's eyes but Harry would have none of it. "How did you get involved with the X-Men?"

"Bobby found me," Harry told him with a shrug, which looked a quite awkward considering he was tied to a chair. "Told me we could save you. I never thought I had to save you. You saved me. That's the way things worked. But then you were shot. And I realized that you could get yourself killed for a cause you weren't even sure you believed in." Harry stopped him before he could speak. "Don't tell me you believe in it. We may not talk about everything but we know each other. Maybe not all the white noise of Brotherhood or magic but we know each other. And I know you feel trapped by your past decisions, decisions that made sense when you made them. Trapped by the person you think you are. The person Magneto needs you to think you are for you to stay. But you're not that person. You could be a good man. The kind of man that sees the sixteen year old kid struggling and tries to save him." Harry smiled then, a rather sad one. "You know people like to say I have a hero complex, a saving people thing. Maybe I do. All I know is that no one was ever there to save me. I had to do it myself. Even my friends. Ron, Hermione. Without them I'd be dead but only you ever saw the boy who needed saving. I guess that's why I love you. I don't know. I just know that I do. And that has nothing to do with the X-Men or Brotherhood."

It was a long speech and John had stayed quiet throughout. It was the most he could remember Harry saying in one go. And it was a lot of things John couldn't be sure he agreed with. But he could tell Harry was telling the truth, at least his truth. John stood. He could feel Harry's eyes on him. "Don't love me. All those things you said? That's the person you need me to be. Not who I am." At least not yet.

When John left, Harry wouldn't look at him. Even Avalanche in the observation room wouldn't look at him. But that didn't matter. He walked until he could be sure no one was around and made the call to Bobby.

"Twenty-seven Market Street. Whatever move you're going to make, I would make it now."

"_John—"_

"They have Harry."

Bobby paused. _"Well get him out."_

But John didn't hang up, not yet. "Why didn't any of you come after me?"

A beat. _"We didn't think you wanted us to. Otherwise you would've come back."_

"I didn't know I could." To his own ears, his voice sounded dead.

"_You still can."_

John choked out a laugh. "Sometimes it's too late to go back."

"_Who says?"_

"Everyone but you, Bobby-boy. Everyone but you."


	19. The End

_The Boy Next Door_

Part II

Summary: Fifteen months after the events of Part I finds Harry Potter post-war. While victorious, Harry can't seem to get things back to normal and he soon becomes obsessed with confronting Pyro. Upon meeting him again, things don't go as expected, at least not how Harry consciously expected things to turn out. Harry soon finds himself in the middle of a mutant conflict and, for once, his role as the Chosen One, even a wizard, is not to blame.

Pairing: Slash. Harry/Pyro

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or the X-Men. J.K. Rowling, Marvel, and others have that honor.

Spoilers: HP 1-6. AU for summer of HP7. X1-3, First Class.

Warnings: Slash (not too explicit). Strong Language. Adult Concepts. Sexual Content. Violence/Abuse.

A.N. I am so sorry for the long wait. And the short chapter with the quick ending. But I really can't write this story anymore, or this fandom. I think I have writer's block for all things Pyro and Harry Potter. It's been simply too long since I've been active in either fandom and too long since the books/movies to continue getting inspiration. But I couldn't leave you hanging so I finished it, though nowhere near the quality that my loyal readers deserve. Again, I apologize. I'm going to probably write in other fandoms from now one so I won't feel insulted if you remove me from your alert lists. But thank you for all your kind words and sticking with me.

If anyone wants to take a crack at re-writing the ending or expanding it, I would read it and, if it fit in my vision for the story I would post it and credit you with your writing.

**Chapter 19: The End**

Harry figured he'd better get comfortable. He was still tied to a chair and it didn't look like he made any progress with John. And it sucked. Big time. Harry didn't just express emotions. He didn't spill his guts. He didn't tell people he loved them. He didn't even know if he had ever said those words in his life. And for it to mean nothing? To have John just walk away? Well, it sucked.

So he sat there, perhaps feeling sorry for himself for a while. He didn't even think much of escaping. Magneto didn't seem to want to kill or torture him and frankly he didn't have the energy to think up some convoluted way out that just so happened to work. Now maybe if a dragon just happened to wander by…but what was the point? He was so tired again. That's what being Harry Potter got you. But that was who he was. He didn't have a choice about that. So he just sat there.

Harry had no idea how long he did so. He figured it had to be less than an hour when he heard it. A commotion on the other side of the one-sided mirror. With a loud bang, Harry saw the mirror shake. And then the door opened and John there stood, hair just a bit out of place. John didn't waste any time coming to him, taking a look at the metal cuffs that bound his hands and feet.

"So you did decide to get me out of this chair," Harry said, trying for light.

John unlocked his hands and feet. "Maybe I figured I'd try to be the person you needed me to be."

Harry resisted saying something corny about him already being that person, figuring that would be a little much. Instead, he stood, shaking out the kinks in his body. "Time to make an escape, huh?" he said instead.

John took him in as if looking for something. "How much use are you going to be if we run into anyone?"

"I don't have a wand," Harry shrugged.

"Seriously? A wand," John looked hysterically incredulous for a moment. "Never mind that. So it's just me then." Harry shrugged uncomfortably, not liking the idea of being powerless in the situation. He hadn't had to worry about such a thing for so long.

"Let's just go," Harry said, making for the door, but John grabbed him.

"The rule is that the one with some way of defending us goes first," John said before pushing ahead of him. They made their way through strangely empty halls, not speaking. For a moment, Harry though he saw a flash of blue around a corner but it was quickly gone. He wondered if John had also seen it because he paused for a moment, a strange look on his face. But soon they were on their way again.

No sooner had Harry thought perhaps this would be easier than expected, things started going wrong. Harry acted quickly, pulling John into a room as they heard voices approach.

"Why did you do that?" John hissed. "I could've taken them."

Harry rolled his eyes. "I'm sure. And in the process you would probably alert everyone else." And Harry thought he jumped into things.

"You're right," John sighed, listening closely at the door. "The X-Men can handle them. Let's just get you out." He made to open the door but Harry stopped him.

"The X-Men are coming?" he asked sharply.

John raised his eyebrows. "Of course. Do you really think I'd betray Magneto and leave him free to chase after me? I'm not suicidal."

"But then, we're running away from the fight," Harry said incredulously.

"No," John said slowly. "Well maybe literally. We're just letting those who care duke it out. Let them fight."

"But I care," Harry insisted.

John rolled his eyes. "It's not your fight."

"It is my fight," Harry argued back. "Magneto is starting a war. It's wrong. And he's manipulating people to do it. Including you." Harry's voice had gotten a little louder so John shushed him. "Don't you want to finally fight the right fight?" Harry whispered, watching him carefully.

But John looked frustrated. "I don't know, okay? I don't know what's right, what's wrong. What I want beyond you safe. So my choice is you. Not Brotherhood, not the X-Men."

Harry stared for a moment. "But the fight."

John grabbed both of his arms. "Harry, you're not a soldier anymore. You got what you wanted: me out. So let's get out of here, together."

Harry wanted to argue but John was begging him. He had only gotten involved for John. Sure he knew it was right to fight with the X-Men, that a year ago he wouldn't have thought to let a friend like Bobby fight without him. But John was right. They could just go. Be gone.

"Alright," Harry agreed and John pulled him into a quick kiss. As he pulled away, a grin spread across his face. Harry let John lead him back out and down the hall. But Harry knew plans always went to shit. It was at that moment that the X-Men arrived. They couldn't see them, but the noise and commotion was undeniable. And it was coming from ahead of them.

"Shit," John snapped. He looked down another hall. "Come on. This way." And then he was dragging Harry swiftly in another direction.

"There he is!" A shout came from behind them and the building began to tremble. John grabbed Harry as he whirled around, pushing him behind him and shooting flame out from his igniters in one smooth move. He heard the sound of curses and doors slamming shut before he was being dragged again down the hallway again.

It bought them some time, but the Brotherhood was still coming for them. The trembling started again as they whirled around the corner. They slid to a stop as they saw two figures coming at them. Two familiar ones.

"Fuck," John muttered. He started pulling Harry the other way. "Come on, Harry."

"But it's the X-Men," Harry muttered. Sure enough, Cyclops and Wolverine's eyes narrowed in recognition. Harry tugged half-heartedly towards them, hoping John would change his mind but knowing he wouldn't. So Harry made a choice. He followed John.

They ran, well past the noise of X-Men vs. Brotherhood. Through hall after hall. Harry couldn't help but be impressed with the maze-like quality of the Brotherhood headquarters. At least John knew where he was going. Harry was just thinking that maybe they were going to get out of there when John let out a curse.

Harry's arm was tugged out of John's grasp as something snapped and came flying off of John's wrists. It took Harry a moment to realize they were John's igniters. But John didn't hesitate; he moved very quickly for his lighter, almost getting it open before the lighter was forced violently out of his grasp, almost taking John with him with as firmly as John was holding onto it. Unfortunately, he hadn't been able to light it before it was wrenched from his grip.

Harry tried to dive for it but it quickly moved out of his reach too. Magneto rounded the corner, a smirk on his face as the igniters and lighter disassembled in the air around him. "Such a shame you cannot create fire," Magneto commented lightly.

"Fuck you," John spit out, eyes darting around frantically. But Harry only had eyes for Magneto. Harry didn't have a weapon but it wasn't his first time in battle. You never took your eye off the enemy. You never knew when your only chance would appear.

"Language," Magneto responded. He eyed the two of them. "It is bad enough you chose your boyfriend over us, John. But to call in the X-Men?" Magneto's tone quickly changed. "I do not appreciate being betrayed."

"I figured it would be a good distraction," John told him. He shifted, trying to pull Harry back towards him but Harry shook him off. They were both weaponless now. Harry wasn't letting him push him in the back again.

"Not good enough," Magneto informed him. "What do I care about the X-Men when I have a traitor to take care of?" There was a groaning noise before Harry heard John scream out behind him. He whirled around to find some sort of metal objects wrapping around John's arms, legs, and neck, pulling him against the wall. They were so misshapen that Harry couldn't tell what they once were. "And I intend to take care of him," Magneto continued as he wrapped the metal around John tighter.

Harry didn't think. He only heard John's screams. But his first instinct wasn't to run to John. He knew he could do nothing about that metal without a wand. So he did the only thing that came to mind. "Accio wand!" he shouted reaching his arm out in Magneto's direction.

There was no hesitation; the wand flew out of Magneto's jacket and into Harry's waiting hand. Harry took momentary pleasure in Magneto's shocked expression.

"Maybe you shouldn't have underestimated me," Harry told him with a grin. However, taking the moment to gloat gave Magneto time to recover. As he let out his first curse, Magneto ripped a metal door off its hinges, placing it in front of him as a shield.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Evanesco," he vanished Magneto's shield and before Magneto could react, Harry cast another spell. "Stupefy."

In his old age, Magneto had no hope to dodge the spell and as the spell hit, Harry found himself looking at a stupefied Magneto. Just for good measure, he went over to check on him. Kneeling in front of him, Harry could tell he was indeed out for the count. "You're no match for a wizard," Harry informed him lightly before turning back to John who was staring at him with wide eyes, his metal entrapments lying still on the floor in front of him. "What?"

"That shouldn't have been that easy," John said, voice a little choked due to the pressure the metal must have placed on his throat.

Harry shrugged. "Once I got my wand it wasn't a problem."

"I thought you couldn't do magic without your wand," John said, heading over to him. Harry checked him over, but the damage seemed minimal.

"So did I," Harry agreed but he wasn't very bothered. Most of his accomplishments had always been in the heat of the moment. He would dwell on it later. "Can we help the X-Men now?"

John hesitated. "I don't have a weapon."

"I'll light a fire."

"You can do that?" John sounded impressed despite himself.

"Of course," Harry said with a small smile. But that didn't seem to encourage John. He still hesitated.

"If I go back, they'll put me in jail. Probably cure me," John voiced. In that moment, he looked the most vulnerable Harry had ever seen him. Being cured would probably break him.

Harry pulled him closer to him. He looked him straight in the eyes. "I would never let that happen. Bobby would never let that happen."

"Bobby can't do shit," John shook his head. "Hell, the X-Men can't do a damn thing if the government decides they want me eliminated."

"So we run," Harry promised. "But right now, we have to do the right thing."

John hesitated for a moment. "I've never been good at that."

"Doesn't mean you can't." Harry didn't wait. He cast a quick incendio. John didn't hesitate, pulling the fire to him. "Let me know if that goes out."

John rolled his eyes, gaining back some bravado. "Like I would let them happen."

In the end, once Harry and John joined the X-Men, the battle was quickly won. Many of the Brotherhood were surprised to find John fighting against them. Others didn't know how to battle against Harry. Unlike most of them, he was not limited to a single trick. Once the fighting was done, things got awkward for a while. The X-Men eyed Harry and John, unsure of how to approach. John glared back, but his posture wasn't as confident as he probably would have liked.

Unsurprisingly, it was Bobby who broke the standstill. He pulled John into a tight hug which John only half-heartedly struggled against at first. At least until it lasted a second too long. "Get off me, Iceman," John grunted, elbowing him.

Bobby pulled back, a grin spread across his face, but he didn't say anything. Instead he pulled Harry into a slightly less intense hug. "What were you thinking going in alone?" he asked as he pulled away.

Harry raised his eyebrows. "Um, I didn't. They kidnapped me."

"Huh," Bobby commented. "Well, that's one way to find their headquarters."

Wolvernine, meanwhile, spoke up from the back. "I thought you two were going to ditch us."

John looked at him. "Harry talked me out of it."

"Somehow I'm not surprised," Wolverine grunted.

"The important thing is that you came back to help," Bobby said, but it seemed more like he was addressing the rest of the X-Men.

Scott stepped up. "We can talk about all of this at the mansion. For now, we need to call the cops. Alert them that this base has been taken out. Let them arrest the Brotherhood. We'll start the hunt for Magneto tomorrow."

"Oh, Harry already took him out," John told him. "In like two seconds flat."

The X-Men exchanged glances. "Did you lock him up some place?" Storm asked very quickly.

"Uh, no need. Unless someone dragged him away, he's still there," Harry informed them. "It would take a wizard to reverse that spell."

**PAGE BREAK**

John stared across at Xavier, feeling like a student again. Xavier was expecting him to talk. John knew that. But he wasn't going to. In the last few days, he betrayed the Brotherhood, reported everything he knew about their accounts and bases, and named every member he knew. He wasn't very good with names so in the latter part he wasn't of much help.

Nonetheless, because of him, the key members of the Brotherhood were in jail and those that weren't lacked Brotherhood money or a place to go. With Magneto imprisoned again, it was likely they would disperse. The only thing the X-Men worried about was that Mystique had escaped. Somehow though, John didn't think she would help Magneto escape again. She was more likely to start her own group but he had realized, he didn't even know what her goals would be now on their own. But he owed her. She had spotted Harry and he escaping in the hall and just let them go.

However, no matter what he did, the government wasn't negotiating. John knew this would happen. Bobby and Xavier had gone to bat for him. They tried to convince the feds that John was an enemy soldier who had surrendered, not a terrorist. That he should be given special treatment for playing a vital role in taking out the Brotherhood. That he was underage when he joined to begin with. But the government wasn't biting and John wasn't surprised. What would it look like to the public if they let him go?

But the X-Men, the good-willed fools that they were, refused to turn him over. No matter the consequences. John figured Xavier would eventually fold. He had his students to think of, after all. But he knew Bobby at least would stick by him. John wasn't angry with Bobby anymore. He had come to terms with what happened in the last few years. But it was still awkward. Bobby treated him like nothing changed, but everything had. Even if the government was up for a deal, John didn't belong here. He wasn't a kid and he certainly wasn't an X-Man.

"You know there are things boiling up overseas in the wizarding world," Xavier commented. "They are close to civil war."

John stared. "That sounds like something you should tell Harry."

"I did," Xavier said kindly. "And if he somehow helped you escape your house arrest here and you disappeared into the wind, what could the government say? Where would they even begin to look?"

John couldn't help but grin. Xavier really was a piece of work. Not knowing what to say, John only nodded his thanks.

"You know St. John," Xavier said, stopping John from leaving. "It wasn't because we didn't care that we didn't come after you." John didn't look at him, only staring out the window, biting down his words. "But I believe in free will. Your fate was always up to you."

John finally looked at him. "It would have been nice to know my options."

"I should have known you well enough to know that you didn't," Xavier admitted. "No matter what the government thinks, you _were_ just a child."

John snorted. "I haven't been a child in a long time."

Xavier smiled. "Maybe not in many ways. But in some ways? Tell me you don't still see the innocence in Harry. Not yet nineteen and he has seen so much. But he is still so young. You have that, too."

"He's better than me," John stated looking down.

"As I said, I believe in free will. Who you are is up to you. Not me, not Magneto, not the United States government. Certainly not your father. You can choose to be good enough for him."

John paused. He sent Xavier a small smile. "Harry can't be all that good. He broke into a freakin' bank."

Xavier nodded, face growing solemn. "And he killed his uncle."

John froze. "I—"

Xavier sent him a look. "Harry knows what he did. Like I said he has seen so much. I'm afraid he has much more to see before long. He doesn't need someone to kill for him. He needs someone that can get him through the things he has to do." Xavier shook his head. "Harry knows he has to return to the wizarding world. He wouldn't be able to live with himself if he didn't. But perhaps it can be your job to help him live with himself for the things he has to do once he does return."

"I think I can be that person." With one final nod, John left Xavier.

He spent the night with Bobby, playing random card games and eating cartons of ice cream. For a moment, it did feel like it used to. Maybe better because John didn't get that weird feeling when Bobby smiled at him just right. At some point, Bobby stopped in the middle of a joke, the wide grin falling from his face. "I can visit, right?"

John rolled his eyes at the comment. "I think Harry would be pissed if you didn't." He thought for a moment. "But you can only visit if you play dumb for the feds. We don't need you in jail for harboring a fugitive."

"Is it harboring a fugitive if you're the one visiting them?" Bobby asked through a mouthful of ice cream.

John rolled his eyes again. "Tomorrow this conversation never happened." Sure enough, the next day when John was across the ocean, Bobby would tell the feds he had no idea what happened and no idea where Pyro could be.

**PAGE BREAK**

Harry grabbed John's hand. John glanced at him, raising an eyebrow. "I didn't know we held hands," he commented.

Harry elbowed him. "Be supportive." But clearly John was only trying to lighten the mood because he squeezed Harry's hand encouragingly. "Well, here goes nothing."

Harry eyed the exterior of Grimmuald Place once more time before dragging John in with him. John took in his surroundings, wrinkling his nose at the troll leg umbrella stand. Harry shushed him when he opened his mouth to speak as they were not quite past the portrait of Sirius' mother. They rounded the corner together and into the drawing room.

Clearly, Harry was out of practice because he was soon sprawled on the floor with an armful of Hermione. John looked surprised, quickly putting out his flame as Hermione kissed Harry's cheek. "I missed you so much," she breathed.

"I missed you too Hermione," Harry told her, helping her to her feet. Harry's eyes landed on Ron who was standing off to the side.

"Alright, mate?" Ron asked somewhat hesitantly.

"How about we agree right now that our last conversation never happened," Harry offered.

Ron sighed. "Agreed. You're here now, that's what matters." Ron and Harry fumbled for a moment, trying to figure out how to greet each other.

"Boys," Hermione rolled her eyes, turning to John. "You must be John."

"Yeah, that's me," John agreed, eying her like he thought it was a possibility she might attack him too. But Hermione only nodded. It was clear neither she nor Ron knew what to do about him. Harry figured they'd learn. John wasn't going anywhere.

Harry grabbed John by the hand, leading him over to the couch. Perhaps they sat a little closer than they had to, but Harry didn't care. He needed John now. And Harry was pretty sure John needed him. Harry had an identity to return to and John had one he needed to discover.

"So," Harry breathed. "Tell me what's happening in the wizarding world."


End file.
